Oblivious
by GeordieLass
Summary: Charles and Elsie are esteemed colleagues and friends. But are they more than friends? Does everyone else see something that they don't? This fic is written as a series of one-shots, each focused on Chelsie but told through the eyes of a different character, and linked together in a gentle tale. Set in Series 5 x
1. Anna Bates

**_A/N: Hello again. I could not resist writing a little fic before Series 5 begins. I thought I would try something a little different for me and so this will be a gentle story of Charles and Elsie's friendship. Each chapter will focus on our beloved Chelsie but will include the thoughts of a different character. I want to explore the idea that Charles and Elsie may be genuinely oblivious to the depth of their feelings for the other; perhaps they do not see what seems so clear to everyone else._**

**_It is based during Series 5 and written almost as a series of one-shots. It won't have any huge cliff-hangers or angst as with some of my other stories; it will simply be a light and fluffy, Chelsie tale. And it will not be another epic- it will be about 20 chapters at most! I will aim to post a chapter every other evening at least (I may manage every evening!) and, as always, your lovely reviews and support will spur me on to write faster and update. I hope you enjoy it x_**

Chapter 1

"Mrs Hughes, are the guest bedrooms ready? Lord Grantham has just informed me that the Ogilvies may be arriving early …" Mr Carson said, as he entered her sitting-room.

"All ready Mr Carson … and I am on my way to do a final check now …" she said, as she hurried past him with a weary smile. He grinned at her understandingly as she made her exit.

To say it had been a busy few days was an understatement; as one set of guests departed another set arrived. Since the recent revelation from Lady Edith and the ongoing indecision of Lady Mary to choose a suitor, it seemed that His Lordship was determined to prove to all and sundry that the Granthams were still a force to be reckoned with.

Mr Carson walked to his pantry, deciding to take advantage of this spare five minutes to catch up on some correspondence.

######

"Damn and blast …" he muttered, as Anna walked into his pantry.

"Oh I do beg your pardon Anna …"

"That's quite alright Mr Carson … is there anything I can help you with?" she asked kindly.

"Um no … no thank you Anna … I have run out of ink that is all …" he explained, pointing to the empty ink pot.

"Well I am sure that one of the hall boys could run down to the Village for you …"

"No use I am afraid … I use a particular brand that you can only get from Smith's in York … I will have to leave these letters for now … I should have realised that it needed replacing … it's just been so busy lately … anyway, how can I help you Anna?"

"I wanted to mention Mr Barrow … I am not sure what he is up to Mr Carson but he seems to be upsetting Mr Molesley," she said. Anna did not like to tell tales on another member of staff but she could not abide bullying of any kind; and the gentle footman had seemed very unhappy of late.

"Thank you for telling me Anna … I will speak to Mr Molesley and get to the bottom of it … I will not have Mr Barrow upsetting any member of staff …" Mr Carson said, furious with Thomas, even without the details he knew that if Anna was concerned enough to talk to him, it must bad.

Anna smiled at the stoic Butler; despite his gruffness he had a very kind heart. Just as she was about to thank Mr Carson, one of the hall boys knocked on the door. They both looked towards him.

"Yes Tim?" Mr Carson asked impatiently.

"Mrs Hughes asked me to give you this parcel Mr Carson … she said that she noticed you were running low …" the young lad said, before scurrying out of the door. Mr Carson looked at the parcel in his hands.

"Ink?" Anna asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes … however did she know?" the Butler stumbled, a broad smile on his face, as he gazed in wonder at the ink.

Anna smiled warmly; not at all surprised that the Housekeeper would take care of the Butler in this way.

######

The staff sat at the dinner table; Mr Carson at the head of the table. Daisy spooned vegetables onto each plate before handing it to the Butler. He added a ladle of stew before passing the plates down the line. As he came to serve Mrs Hughes; he wordlessly removed the cabbage from her plate, leaving the carrots and suede, before adding the stew. He knew that she disliked cabbage. He then continued to serve the other staff without so much as a pause. Mrs Hughes accepted the plate with thanks; barely even registering this small action, so used was she to his care for her likes and dislikes. Whilst he finished serving the staff, Mrs Hughes buttered his bread and placed it on his plate. Once everyone was served, the two heads of household happily ate their meal. Throughout the dinner, Mrs Hughes regularly topped up Mr Carson's water glass, as they continued to eat.

Anna was mesmerised as she watched the Butler and Housekeeper. She had always known that the two were more than colleagues; certainly they were very good friends. However, she hadn't noticed all of these small subtleties before. Their little kindnesses to each other were so natural and understated, one could barely notice them. However, since the ink delivery earlier in the day; Anna had found herself thinking of the Housekeeper and Butler more and more. They were both such independent and capable people and yet they relied on each other more than she had ever realised; more than possibly they even realised. As Anna smiled, watching the two interact so easily; she realised that the two were totally in sync and, in many ways, the perfect partnership.

"What are you looking at Mrs Bates?" John whispered with a smile from across the table.

"I'll tell you later …" she smiled, before finishing her stew.

######

Finally, the Family had retired to their rooms and Mr Carson was free to go downstairs. He headed straight for her sitting-room, wanting to check if she was ok; it had been an extraordinarily long and busy day. He knocked on her door gently and, as normal, entered without waiting for a response. He stopped suddenly inside her room when he realised that Mrs Hughes had fallen asleep in her chair, her open book still resting on her lap. No wonder, he thought, she must be exhausted; she had not stopped all day long.

He was glued to the spot as he gazed at his friend. She looked so peaceful. He felt like he was intruding; it seemed so intimate to watch her sleep. He was at a loss as to what to do. Should he leave her sleeping soundly? No, he couldn't do that; she would get a chill sleeping downstairs in her sitting-room, not to mention a creak in her neck. Should he wake her? No he couldn't, she was obviously exhausted and she looked so serene as she slept. Maybe I could carry her to her room? Good god man, what a thought, you can't do that! What if someone saw you? Even if they didn't see you, to carry Mrs Hughes, would mean holding her, touching her … no, you certainly cannot do that, it would be most improper.

Oh dear god, what am I going to do? As these thoughts ran through Mr Carson's mind, he had still not moved an inch. Goodness, what if she wakes up and finds me standing here like an idiot staring at her, he panicked. He decided he would have to wake her, he really had little choice. He gingerly walked to stand beside her chair. Now what? He thought.

He knelt down on the floor so that his face was at the same level as hers. He gently rested his hand on her shoulder and whispered to her.

"Mrs Hughes … Mrs Hughes … wake up … it's time for bed …" he tried.

He sighed as she continued to sleep, although it made him happy to see the lovely smile on her lips as she dozed. He grinned as he had a thought.

"Come on Mrs Hughes … wake up for this infuriating, stubborn old goat …" he said, hoping she might hear him.

She didn't even stir.

"Mrs Hughes … I may have to drink all of tonight's sherry on my own if you don't wake up …" he tried again.

Nothing. She continued to snooze.

"I may be tempted to throw that ghastly toaster of yours in the bin Mrs Hughes … you know how it scares me … unless you wake up and stop me of course …" he tried one final time.

There was no movement at all as she continued to sleep.

Mr Carson exhaled in desperation. The only way to wake her would be to shout quite loudly and he did not wish to frighten her. He decided to at least remove the book from her hands in case it dropped to the floor and startled her. He gently teased open her fingers as he slid the book from her grasp; he grinned as he noticed how tiny her fingers looked next to his huge hands.

He wondered if he should just leave her sleeping in the chair after all. He could at least try to make her more comfortable. Maybe find something to prop her head upright to avoid a creak in her neck? He looked around the room but could see nothing that would work.

I know! he thought, as he tiptoed to the kitchen and back again.

"There …" he whispered proudly; she did look a little more comfortable.

Right what now? He felt utterly clueless. Perhaps if I removed her shoes? he thought. He knew that he always felt more comfortable without his shoes and he certainly would not be removing any other items of her clothing, perish the thought, he blushed. He bent to unbuckle the Housekeeper's shoes. He managed to undo one shoe and gently remove it, feeling quite pleased with himself. However, as he began to undo the second, his thumb brushed against her stocking.

"Oh my!" he gasped, as he jumped backwards, immediately removing his hands from her foot. Mrs Hughes was his dear friend and colleague and he certainly would never wish to compromise her in any way. I will have to leave that as it is, he flustered, I cannot possibly go anywhere near her foot again. Therefore, the abashed Butler left Mrs Hughes still wearing one shoe.

He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and pinching his nose with the other. This really was not going well; he had failed to wake her up and now he was failing to make her more comfortable. He decided he could at least place a blanket over her to keep her warm and, as it happened, there was one lying over the back of the chair that she was sleeping on. Right, I will have to retrieve it, Mr Carson decided, taking a deep breath before taking on his next challenge. He slowly wound his arm across Mrs Hughes's shoulders and began to softly lean her body forwards, just a few inches. He then began to pull the blanket out from behind her with his other hand. He had to reach down quite a long way to pull the blanket out. As he was doing this, Mrs Hughes flopped backwards, trapping his arm behind her.

"Oh god!" he murmured, trying to move his arm. However, she had snuggled back contentedly against the chair and his arm was well and truly stuck. As he continued to try to remove it, she began to stir and he was terrified that she would wake to find him with his arm pressed up against her lower back and him leaning over her. He remained in that position for what seemed like hours, but every time he tried to move his arm, she began to shift and so he had to still once more.

Finally, after many worrying moments, there was a knock on the door. Oh dear god, Mr Carson panicked.

"Who is it?" he said, as loudly as he dared.

"It's Anna Mr Carson … is everything alright?" she asked from behind the closed door.

"Anna … oh thank god … come in Anna …" he said.

Anna opened the door and stared in disbelief at the sight before her.

"What on earth?" she began to giggle, but then immediately took charge of herself as she could see the Butler's discomfort.

Mr Carson felt the need to explain quickly to avoid any misunderstanding at all.

"Anna this is entirely innocent … I came to say goodnight to Mrs Hughes but she had fallen asleep … I thought I should wake her … but I didn't want to startle her … and I couldn't seem to wake her … so I thought I would make her comfortable … I propped her head … then I tried to remove her shoes … then I thought I would cover her in a blanket so that she didn't get cold … but the blanket was behind her on the chair … I tried to retrieve it but she fell backwards against my arm … I didn't know what to do … my arm is trapped … it's trapped … I know this looks terrible Anna but I promise there is nothing improper … nothing at all … I just wanted to make Mrs Hughes comfortable …" he blustered, finally pausing for breath.

Anna smiled at the lovely man in front of her; he had gotten himself into a right pickle. She was in no doubt that he only had the best of intentions to take care of Mrs Hughes. She could not help but giggle lightly as she took in the sight before her; the scene she viewed warranted many questions and she could not resist a couple.

"Mr Carson … is that a bag of flour on Mrs Hughes's shoulder?"

"Yes … yes it is … I thought it would be soft …" he explained seriously, as if he had chosen the most obvious pillow in the world.

Anna smiled warmly and nodded, noticing the bag had begun to split and there was some flour on the Housekeeper's shoulder as well as on Mr Carson's arm.

"And why does Mrs Hughes have one shoe on and one shoe off?" she asked.

"I tried to remove both but it became … umm … a little precarious …" he replied earnestly.

Anna nodded again, biting her lip.

"And your arm? Surely you could have removed it with a little effort?" she asked. He was a giant of a man and Mrs Hughes was only small.

"I didn't want to wake her … I couldn't have her wake up to find me with my arm … like this … what would she think?" he gasped, nodding towards his trapped arm and then looking at Anna for understanding.

Anna nodded; she did understand, the poor man was mortified. He had tried to help but had ended up in an utter quandary. She needed to help sort this situation.

"Right then, you are going to tilt Mrs Hughes forward towards me … I will hold her whilst you remove your arm …" she whispered, as she stepped in front of Mrs Hughes.

"Ok … but what if she wakes?" he asked, terrified.

"If she begins to wake, then you run out of here as fast as you can … and I'll look after Mrs Hughes … she will never even know you were here …" Anna smiled, giving him a wink.

"Oh wonderful … good … good … thank you Anna …" he said, very relieved.

Mr Carson did as he was asked, and as Anna held Mrs Hughes, the Butler finally breathed out in relief, as he removed his arm. They both laid her softly backwards against the chair. She was still sleeping. He beamed at Anna.

"Now you get yourself up to bed and I will wake Mrs Hughes and get her safely to bed as well …"

"Are you sure? Will you be able to manage? And Anna … you won't tell her about me … about this?"

"No of course not Mr Carson … now go on … she will be fine …" she said, noticing his concerned expression as he gazed at the Housekeeper.

"Thank you Anna … thank you …" he began, as he stood and walked towards the door. He then spun back to face Anna.

"Oh … and Mrs Hughes likes to take a glass of milk up to bed … it helps her to sleep …" he said, and then blushed as Anna beamed soppily at him.

"I only mention it in case she forgets … with her being sleepy and all …" he added, to play down his bashfulness, whilst looking down at his toes.

"I will make sure that I get her a glass of milk Mr Carson … now be off with you …" she grinned.

"Right … good night Anna … goodnight Mrs Hughes," he whispered, as he tiptoed out of the room.

Anna smiled warmly as she watched him leave the room; his fondness for Mrs Hughes was adorable.

After removing the bag of flour and replacing her discarded shoe, Anna gently woke the Housekeeper. Mrs Hughes was a little disorientated at first but happily allowed Anna to help her up to bed. As they reached her bedroom, the housekeeper noticed something on her shoulder; there were little white flecks of something.

"Anna … is this flour?" she asked, still half-asleep.

"Um … no … no … just a bit of dust I think …" Anna replied, as she brushed any remaining spots of flour off the Housekeeper's shoulder.

Mrs Hughes was not alert enough to argue and so she accepted Anna's explanation.

"Oh Anna … Mr Carson … did you see him before he went to bed? Was he ok? His knee was aching terribly this morning … I was going to make him a hot compress to take to bed?" the Housekeeper said drowsily.

"He was fine Mrs Hughes … he said to say goodnight to you," Anna said kindly.

"Ahh good ... that is good," Mrs Hughes breathed fondly, relieved that Mr Carson was well.

As they reached the Housekeeper's bedroom Anna smiled warmly, thinking that if only Mrs Hughes knew how much the Butler cared for her and if only the Butler knew how much he meant to Mrs Hughes.


	2. Lady Mary

_**A/N: Thank you so very, very much for your lovely comments and reviews for this new story. As always they are such a thrill to receive and I love to know what you think x**_

Chapter 2

Lady Mary always knew who to go to when she needed a little boost of confidence; her ever-loyal Butler, Carson. She was feeling worn down by all of the decisions that were needed with regards to the Estate; perhaps her father had been right when he'd said she should leave the running of the Estate to him and Tom. She walked along the servant's corridor to Carson's pantry; there was a hushed atmosphere downstairs as most of the staff were upstairs tending to their afternoon chores. However, as she neared the pantry she heard raised voices. The door was ajar and so she peered into the room without being noticed.

"Mr Carson, do stop being an old grump …" Mrs Hughes exclaimed.

Mary immediately covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself laughing out loud. She had never heard anyone speak to the Butler like that; the downstairs staff always appeared quite intimidated by him. She realised that she had never been privy to seeing the Butler and Housekeeper alone together. She concluded that they must be close colleagues indeed to be having such an informal, sparky discussion.

"Mrs Hughes I am not an old grump," he responded in his most serious tone.

Mary had to bite her lip to withhold the laughter that threatened.

"You most certainly are … lord knows the staff have little to look forward to … let them go to the dance … you know very well that the Family are dining out tomorrow evening …" Mrs Hughes responded.

"All the more reason for the staff to stay at the House … it will be a good opportunity to get some of the jobs completed that are difficult with the Family in residence … and what's more, I don't think the dance is appropriate for the staff …" he replied, a little out of breath as he continued his disagreement with Mrs Hughes.

"Not appropriate? It's a village dance for pity's sake … I am not suggesting they go to a Soho club and watch showgirls!" Mrs Hughes cried. She knew this disagreement was getting sillier by the minute but she could not seem to find the will to care.

"Mrs Hughes!" the Butler gasped, before continuing, "... I do not think it is proper at all for you to mention such an establishment."

"Oh calm down … I only mention it by way of emphasising how innocent this dance will be …"

"But you said they would be playing that … that … _jazz_ music …" he said, utter contempt in his voice.

"And what of it? We had that lovely Mr Ross playing such music in this very house … and don't tell me that you weren't tapping your feet along with the rest of us because I know that you were …" she said, stifling a giggle as she saw the horrified look on the Butler's face. It was sometimes too easy to wind him up; she never deliberately aimed to annoy him but his pompous and stubborn manner often meant that she could not resist. He was her dear friend but my goodness, he was infuriating at times.

Mr Carson decided it was time to restore order and sensibility to this conversation. He took a deep breath.

"Mrs Hughes, the staff are not permitted to go to the dance … and that is final."

Mr Carson stood resolutely, determined to stand his ground with Mrs Hughes. He knew that he often gave in to her wishes; in fact he knew that he rarely ever won an argument with his counterpart. However, over this matter he was determined not to waver. He stared at her stubbornly, as Mrs Hughes sighed and rolled her eyes at this maddening man.

"You really are a grumpy old bear!" she stormed, before striding out of his pantry.

Lady Mary bit back a snort of laughter as she jumped into a nearby doorway. She watched as Mrs Hughes marched along the corridor and up the stairs. Mary then peered through the door at Carson; he looked exasperated, as she would expect from the solemn Butler. However, she was then somewhat surprised to watch an amused smile tweak at his lips as he shook his head with a chuckle,

"Grumpy old bear," he muttered, with a smile.

######

Lady Mary headed back upstairs after she had overheard the Heads of Staff bickering; she knew that Carson would be mortified if he knew that she had been listening and so she would catch him later in the day. She was walking past the Library when she again heard Mrs Hughes's voice, however this time her voice was measured, reassuring and warm. Lady Mary felt a little guilty for eavesdropping on the Housekeeper for the second time in one day but she was suddenly fascinated by the woman who seemed to have a special relationship with her Butler. She knew they must be close friends to be quarrelling in such a way; even if at this moment they were at odds with each other.

As Lady Mary paused near the Library door, she could hear that Mrs Hughes was talking to the new footman, Jeremy.

"But I never seem to do anything right Mrs Hughes … Mr Carson is always telling me off … he thinks I am useless …" Jeremy said. Mrs Hughes had obviously happened upon the upset young man when she came upstairs.

"Oh Jeremy … I am sure that is not true … Mr Carson is simply trying to help you … did something happen specifically this morning? Something to make you so upset?"

"I gave Lord Grantham a dessert spoon for his porridge by mistake … Mr Carson looked like he might explode … I have been hiding in the Library ever since," Jeremy said.

Mrs Hughes looked at him with much understanding. He was only a young lad and after a week in the job, he was on a steep learning curve. She also withheld her smile knowing exactly how enraged Mr Carson would have been given the heinous crime of using the wrong spoon! His face would have flashed bright red, the veins in his neck would have risen to the surface, a grimace on his face in controlled fury. The Butler did get het up over the most silly things sometimes.

"Well Jeremy, we all make mistakes and even if Mr Carson did seem angry, it is only because he wants the best for you … he wants to guide you to be the best you can be. You should take it as an immense compliment that Mr Carson is trying to help you to improve … it means that he thinks you are capable of going far," she said kindly.

"Do you really think so?" Jeremy asked hopefully.

"I do … Jeremy … Mr Carson is a hard task master ... but he is one of the finest Butler's in the country … as well as a very kind man under that gruff exterior … and if you can withstand a little scolding every now and then when things don't go quite to plan … you will find that you will become an outstanding footman under Mr Carson's tutelage …" she said reassuringly, giving his arm a light pat to bolster him.

She had managed to bolster herself too. Not two minutes ago she had been fuming with the Butler, yet outlining his merits and his finest points to the young Timothy had also reminded Mrs Hughes just how lucky they all were to have a Head of Household like Mr Carson.

Lady Mary beamed with joy on hearing the Housekeeper describe the Butler in such glowing terms. She was becoming more and more convinced that Mrs Hughes and Carson were more than simply respected colleagues; Mrs Hughes certainly thought very highly of the Butler despite their earlier spat. The younger woman also thought wryly that she could learn a lesson in tact from Mrs Hughes; the Housekeeper had been maddened with Mr Carson just a few moments earlier and yet she hadn't demonstrated even a hint of that to the footman, quite the contrary, she could not have supported the Butler more.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes … and I do know that Mr Carson is a fine Butler … it is clear to see how much the Family value him …" Jeremy said sincerely.

Lady Mary smiled tenderly at this true statement.

"They do indeed … as do all of the downstairs staff … now why don't you go and see Mr Carson in his pantry … apologise for your error this morning … and assure him that you want to learn and be the best footman you can be … he will appreciate that … hmm?" Mrs Hughes suggested, with a kindly wink.

"Yes Mrs Hughes … I will do just that," he smiled, as he nodded to the Housekeeper and made his way happily out of the Library, his head held high with a newfound confidence.

Lady Mary glanced at Mrs Hughes as she remained in the Library for a further few seconds. The Housekeeper chuckled, her eyes sparkling, as she whispered fondly to herself,

"Heaven forbid … the wrong spoon … the silly old bear!"

######

It was the day of the dance and neither Mrs Hughes nor Mr Carson had mentioned it since their disagreement. This realisation unsettled Mr Carson; he had never known the Housekeeper to give up a fight so easily, it was quite unlike her. However, he thought smugly that perhaps she has seen sense and realised that, in this particular case, he was right.

"Would you like some tea Mrs Hughes?" he asked happily, as they sat with the rest of the staff at breakfast.

"Yes thank you Mr Carson," she responded cordially.

"I bumped into Mrs Jones from the Bakery this morning on my way back from the Village …" Mrs Patmore announced loudly from the end of the staff dining room. The Cook had been into the village early to confirm her grocery order.

"That's nice … was she well?" Mrs Hughes responded.

"She was … in fact I cannot remember when I last saw her so well …" the Cook replied.

The many faces at the table politely listened to this conversation as they ate their breakfast, Mr Carson included. The conversation itself did not appear to warrant any particular interest but there was something about the tone of Mrs Hughes's voice that made the Butler sit up and take notice; something was afoot, he just did not know what.

"Really? That's good to hear … was there any particular reason she was so well?" Mrs Hughes asked, as she looked at her friend the Cook, a tiny smile on her lips.

Mr Carson continued to feel puzzled; he noted the quirk of a smile on the Housekeeper's lips and was now certain that something was going on.

"Yes … she was looking forward to attending the dance in the village this evening … apparently it promises to be the event of the year … some of the best musicians in the country are playing …" Mrs Patmore said, a glint in her eye as she looked at her friend.

There it was; the Butler almost choked on his tea. Hold your nerve my boy, he thought determinedly, hold your nerve.

"Really? That good?" Mrs Hughes replied, as she continued to butter hers and Mr Carson's toast.

"Your toast Mr Carson …" she smiled sweetly, as she handed it to him. She was a picture of innocence.

Mr Carson knew that Mrs Hughes was too kind and too respectful, ever to undermine him publicly in front of the staff. No matter how much she disagreed with him, and she disagreed with him over a great many things. She had never once shown any dissent in front of the staff. She saved her displeasure for when they were alone and only then would she vent her frustration with him. He could not ask for a more supportive and loyal colleague. However, he also knew that she was not above a little gentle persuasion. The Butler coughed to hide his unease and thanked her for the toast.

"What a shame we are all going to miss it … wouldn't it be lovely to go to the dance?" Anna smiled pleasantly.

Mr Carson looked at Anna, open-mouthed. Surely, she wasn't in on this little rouse as well?

"It is a shame Anna … however we have so much work here at the House … it is not possible I am afraid …" Mrs Hughes said, not daring to look at Mr Carson.

What was she up to now? He wondered. She had just told Anna that they could not go to the dance yet he knew that she wanted very much for them all to go to the dance.

"Yes I understand … I know that if there were any way at all that we could go to the dance … you and Mr Carson would allow it …" Anna smiled. She was worried she had spoken a little out of turn; she would never be disrespectful towards Mr Carson or Mrs Hughes.

Oh bloody hell, Mr Carson thought.

"Thank you for understanding Anna … and there will be other dances I am sure …" Mrs Hughes said kindly.

"Not like this one … there's a band from London playing apparently … they played at the Ritz last month …" Jimmy added enthusiastically.

Mr Carson knew that Mrs Hughes would never have involved Jimmy in her plan; however it seemed that the chat about the dance was taking on a life of its own.

"Really? And they are coming to Downton?" Jeremy asked excitedly.

Mr Carson could not help but smile at the lad. He had much respect for the hardworking and reverent attitude the young footman had displayed the previous day.

"Yes … one of their brothers comes from Ripon … and so they are playing at a few dances in the area …" Jimmy added.

"And how do you know so much about it?" Mrs Patmore asked.

"My mate from Burton House is going … he's a footman there … his Family are going to the dance themselves and so the servants get to attend as well …" Jimmy continued, as he ate his eggs and toast.

"It's a shame His Lordship and the Family aren't going to the dance then …" Mrs Baxter added lightly.

Mr Carson gave a weak smile. He knew that there was only so long he could fight a war on every front.

"I think the Family already have other plans tonight don't they? Aren't they dining at the Dower House?" Mr Molesley asked.

Mr Carson could quite happily have punched him on the nose.

"They are Mr Molesley yes …" Mrs Hughes replied quietly.

She had only asked Mrs Patmore to help her a little; she had not meant for the entire staff to get involved. She had hoped to persuade Mr Carson to let them all go to the dance but she now actually felt quite guilty and she hoped he would not be too angry with her. She did not want all of the staff ganging up on him or them thinking the Butler unreasonable. Despite her calling him grumpy; she knew that the staff could not wish for a better or kinder Head of Household and she would never do anything to undermine him.

"Then could we not all go to the dance, Mr Carson? As the Family are away …" Mr Molesley asked happily.

Mrs Hughes gulped. She looked at Mr Carson, as they gazes met. He gave her a knowing look, raising his eyebrows. She felt immediate relief as she could see that he was not angry with her, he seemed more amused than anything else. He knew that he was beaten; the final straw being how anxious Mrs Hughes looked. He did not want her to worry for a second.

"Oh, now why didn't we think of that Mrs Hughes?" he said straight-faced, as he gazed at the Housekeeper. His eyes gave a hint of his teasing but only Mrs Hughes noticed this, no-one else.

Mrs Hughes also kept a serious expression, although her eyes sparkled with mirth at Mr Carson.

"I am not sure Mr Carson … perhaps we are both getting a little old … and a little grumpy …" she dared, with a twinkle.

Mr Carson smiled amusingly at the Housekeeper. The rest of the staff held their breath, hoping that their superiors would say yes.

"Well now … I think it might be acceptable for the staff to attend the dance this evening … would you agree Mrs Hughes?" he asked.

"I think that would be acceptable Mr Carson … as long as you and I also attend to chaperone them …" she responded with a small smile. He nodded and turned to face the staff.

"Very well … we will all go to the dance …" he announced, to be met with delighted cries and gasps.

"But we must be back at the House no later than ten … and if any standards should drop … you will never attend another dance as long as I shall live …" he added warningly, not wanting to appear too soft.

The staff nodded eagerly and thanked Mr Carson, as they began to discuss animatedly what to wear and what bands would be playing.

Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore shared a happy glance, and the Housekeeper then turned to Mr Carson.

"I really did not plan all of that Mr Carson … I only mentioned it to Mrs Patmore … she was my only accomplice … truly …" she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows, as he looked at her studiously as if considering her statement.

"I believe you Mrs Hughes … and thank you for making me look kinder than I am …" he smiled, knowing that she had deliberately allowed him to look generous, as the one allowing the staff to attend the dance.

"Mr Carson … some of the grumpiest old bears I have ever met … also have the warmest hearts … more toast?" she grinned.

"Yes please …" he chuckled.

######

Charles stood to attention at the side of the dining room, as the Family ate lunch. Lord Grantham and his family were discussing their dinner that evening at the Dowager's home.

"I hope granny does not start moaning again about the new government …" Lady Edith said wearily.

"Let's hope not … we will do our very best to stay clear of politics and enjoy the evening …" Lady Grantham said.

"Do you and the staff have plans for this evening Carson … it will be a welcome change for you not to have to serve us dinner …" Lady Grantham added kindly.

"Umm … yes … yes we do Milady …" he answered vaguely, rather embarrassed to admit their plans in front of the Family.

Lady Mary looked at her favourite Butler questioningly. She wondered happily if Mrs Hughes had managed to win the old bear round. She had seen the way Mrs Hughes both flustered and amused the Butler and their close friendship had been clear to see, despite the fact that they were squabbling. Mary didn't know how she hadn't spotted it previously; she had never thought the Heads of Household were anything more than respected colleagues. Yet the way she had seen them argue together; there was a familiarity to it, an underlying care beneath their prickly words. If Mary hadn't known better; she would have sworn that she was listening to an old married couple bickering.

Yet Mary had also heard Carson adamantly declaring that the staff would not be going to the dance. She recognised that stubbornness, she knew Carson to be quite immovable at times. She also knew that few people would ever be able to make the Butler change his mind. However, after seeing his smile as Mrs Hughes left his pantry; she would not be surprised if the bright and fiery Housekeeper had succeeded in her mission to get Mr Carson to allow the staff to go to the dance. If he had yielded, Mary would take this as a good sign that Carson really did care deeply for Mrs Hughes. She was already sure that the Housekeeper held the Butler in high regard, having heard her comments in the Library.

"And what are those plans Carson?" Lord Grantham asked.

"We are going to the Village dance Milord …" he responded.

Lady Mary did not say a word; simply beamed delightedly as she took another spoonful of soup. Yes, she thought, our lovely Butler certainly does care for Mrs Hughes.


	3. Isobel Crawley

Chapter 3

"Thank you Mr Carson," Mrs Hughes smiled, as he placed a glass of wine in front of her on the small table.

He sat down to join her and Mrs Patmore, happily sipping his beer as they watched all of the people around them.

"So what do you think of the dance so far?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"It is quite lively … I am not sure how all of these youngsters have the energy …" he replied.

"The dances are rather fast-paced and this jazz music certainly is energetic …" Mrs Patmore added, as she swayed back and forth in her seat, enjoying the music.

Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson both chuckled warmly as they watched the Cook tapping her foot and swaying to the music.

"And how do you rate the bands Mr Carson? In your expert opinion?" Mrs Hughes teased.

"Expert opinion? I think I am probably better qualified to assess the merits of a dinner service ..."

"That as well ... but you were an entertainer in your day and so how do you think they are doing?" Mrs Hughes continued.

They rarely ever discussed Mr Carson's past but certainly when they did, it was no longer such a delicate topic for the Butler; his wound had been healed. He looked to be considering the Housekeeper's question seriously.

"I think the current band are doing well ... they have the right mix of musical flair, friendly banter with the audience and ..."

"... and good looks," Mrs Patmore interupted with a chuckle.

"I was going to say ... and a good balance of up tempo and slower tunes," he said, raising his eyebrows at the Cook.

Mrs Hughes smiled.

"They are quite handsome too though aren't they? Mrs Hughes, wouldn't you agree?" Mrs Patmore said dreamily.

Mrs Hughes was a little taken aback by the question but stared at the band onstage, seemingly giving this query some thought. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mr Carson studying her with interest and so she decided that she could not miss a chance to suprise him.

"Well the drummer is a dish," she replied seriously, as Mr Carson's mouth dropped open.

The Cook shrieked with laughter at Mrs Hughes's comment as the Housekeeper giggled too. Mr Carson looked flabbergasted but soon was chuckling. Although, he did steal one or two secret glances at the drummer; to assess just how serious Mrs Hughes could be.

######

All of the downstairs staff had come to the dance, with the younger staff enjoying a rare night off, dancing their hearts away whilst partnering each other, as well as other youngsters from the Village. The three elders from the staff sat together, and Anna and Mr Bates sat at the next table to them.

"Good evening to you all … may I join you?" Mrs Crawley asked, as she approached their table.

"Yes of course Mrs Crawley … I didn't expect to see you here this evening? I thought you would be dining with the Dowager and the Family?" Mrs Hughes responded.

"Oh I thought the dance would be far more fun … I love jazz!" she smiled, as she sat down beside Mr Carson.

Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore grinned as the Butler looked horrified.

######

"Mr Carson's face was a picture when Mrs Crawley asked him to dance …" Mrs Patmore laughed.

"I know … I don't think the poor man expected to have to dance this evening …" Mrs Hughes smiled.

"Would you not like to dance with him?"

"Me ... no … no of course not … we would never dance together,"

"Why ever not?"

"It would not be proper at all …"

"But friends can dance together …"

"Yes of course they can Mrs Patmore … but we are not just friends … we are colleagues and seniors to all of the staff …" Mrs Hughes began.

"… and with all of the staff here this evening … it would not be right for us to dance together … we are here in our professional capacity … Mr Carson and I would never undermine that … we have never once danced at the servants ball … or anywhere else for that matter … we never would …"

Mrs Patmore glanced at the Housekeeper with a hint of sadness and yet she noted that Mrs Hughes did not look unhappy at all. She was absolutely accepting of the fact she and Mr Carson could not dance together. It was simply the way things were.

######

"You are quite the mover Mr Carson …" Mrs Crawley teased.

"Uh huh … thank you …" he replied.

The Butler had not wanted to dance at all this evening, quite happy was he to sit on the side-lines with Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore and watch the others. However, when Mrs Crawley had asked him to dance- despite it being highly unusual for a lady to do the asking- he had felt it his duty to dance with her.

"I think Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes might appreciate a dance too if you have the energy …" she suggested.

"Oh no we couldn't do that Mrs Crawley," he replied.

"Why ever not?"

"That would not be appropriate … they are my colleagues … it would be unprofessional to dance with either of them," he said plainly.

"Oh really … that does seem unfair … the younger staff get to dance …"

"Yes, well they are young … Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes and I are in positions of responsibility," he finished, his tone brokering no further argument.

"Well then … I shall just have to steal you for another dance myself," she joked, as Mr Carson's face turned a nice shade of puce.

######

Anna and Mr Bates had now joined the Housekeeper, Butler, Cook and Mrs Crawley. The six sat happily enjoying the music. As they chatted amiably, Mr Jenners, a local merchant, approached the table. Mr Jenners was known by all at the table, as he visited Downton regularly to supply all of the linens to the Abbey.

"Good evening to you all … I hope you are enjoying the dance …" he smiled.

He was a jolly fellow who was easy to like. His shoulders were a little rounded, his gait a little weary but all in all, he was a fine looking man for his age.

"We certainly are Mr Jenners … I hope you are well …" Mr Carson replied happily.

"I am Mr Carson … I am …"

He continued to stand beside their table.

"Can I get you a drink?" Charles asked, not sure why the man was still standing there.

"No … no thank you Mr Carson … I actually wanted to ask Mrs Hughes if she would like to dance?" he said hopefully, finally looking directly at the Housekeeper.

"Oh …" Mr Carson murmured.

Mrs Hughes realised that she could hardly turn him down; he looked a little nervous, she thought sympathetically.

"That would be lovely Mr Jenners …" she replied, as she rose from her seat.

Her friends and colleagues all smiled, including Mr Carson, as she made her way to the dance floor. Conversation soon returned to Mr Barrow and his wily ways. Mrs Patmore was holding court as the others listened.

Mrs Crawley looked at Mr Carson. She watched as he listened to the Cook, as Mrs Patmore continued to moan about Thomas; at a glance the Butler seemed fine. However, Mrs Crawley could not help but watch him more closely; the esteemed Butler intrigued her. There was something a little brittle about his smile; he seemed distracted. As he nodded towards the Cook, he was fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth. She wasn't even sure if he was aware he was doing this. Mrs Crawley tried to place that look on his face, his manner. He did not look unhappy as such, he just looked ... lost. Yes that was it, he seemed unsettled and lost.

"Everything alright Mr Carson?" she whispered, so that the others would not hear her. She did not want to embarrass the man. He looked startled by the question but quickly gathered himself.

"Yes … quite fine Mrs Crawley … quite fine," he smiled. She returned his smile.

Mrs Crawley fleetingly wondered if his unease might have something to do with the Housekeeper dancing with another man; but then speedily brushed that thought away. Mr Carson was devoted to his work, his vocation. He would only ever have great professional respect for Mrs Hughes, she reasoned.

######

Mrs Hughes had re-joined the table. Mrs Crawley noted that Mr Carson seemed instantly more settled. She could see how the Housekeeper's presence soothed him, dampened any ruffled edges or feelings that he might have. She watched the two curiously as they chatted.

"Did you enjoy the dancing Mrs Hughes?" Mr Carson asked.

"I did yes … although I fear Mr Jenners may have several bruised toes …" she joked. Mr Carson smiled.

"I am sure not … you are a very proficient dancer," he said, rather formally.

"Proficient? I am not sure if that's a compliment or not Mr Carson …" she teased.

"Of course it is …" he said, shaking his head lightly at her teasing.

Mrs Hughes grinned at the Butler; she could see that he had something else he wanted to say, she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

"Was there something else Mr Carson?" she asked, hoping to prompt him.

"No … no … not really … I was only wondering … will you will be dancing with Mr Jenners again this evening?" he asked lightly.

Mrs Crawley's gaze widened, as she tried not to stare too obviously at the pair; maybe Mr Carson did have more than professional feelings for Mrs Hughes. Although if he did, the Housekeeper seemed totally unaware of this, as she answered his question quite matter-of-factly; Mrs Hughes did not seem to think he was asking anything out of the ordinary.

"I shouldn't think so," she replied kindly.

"He is a nice man," Mr Carson added, apropos of nothing. He was not even sure himself why he had said that.

"Yes he is," Mrs Hughes replied honestly, feeling slightly puzzled. After a short pause she added, "However, I think these twinkle toes have done enough dancing for one night!"

Mr Carson laughed genuinely. He looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders; a weight that neither Mr Carson or Mrs Hughes seemed to fully understand, thought Mrs Crawley.

"Right then … shall I get us all some drinks?" he said exuberantly.

Mrs Crawley noted that it was the happiest and most relaxed he had appeared all evening.

"Yes lovely …" Mrs Hughes replied.

Mr Carson stood and walked across to the bar. As he did so, Mrs Crawley kept her gaze on Mrs Hughes. The Housekeeper never once took her eyes from Mr Carson as he crossed the dance floor, a devoted yet mystified smile on her face. She seemed to be trying to fathom something out.

Suddenly, Mrs Hughes caught Mrs Crawley's stare and felt a little embarrassed, knowing that she had been lost in her own thoughts.

"I am sorry ... I was just thinking I should probably help Mr Carson with the drinks …" Mrs Hughes said steadily, aiming to explain her pensive manner.

"That's a very good idea Mrs Hughes," Mrs Crawley smiled kindly, as the Housekeeper stood and walked across to join the Butler.

######

"So are you glad we came?" Mrs Hughes beamed, as they stood at the bar.

Mr Carson looked down at her happy face and decided to discard any last shreds of opposition to the dance.

"I am," he answered honestly.

Mrs Hughes looked very pleased with this admission; she only ever wanted Mr Carson to be happy.

"Perhaps you could step up and do a turn later?" she joked, biting back a giggle.

She could see that the Butler had visibly relaxed and so she knew that a spot of teasing would be acceptable. Mr Carson too was feeling playful.

"I was thinking that myself ... now what to sing ... perhaps _As Jolly as a Sandboy_ or maybe _Tipperary Rose_ ..." he pondered.

Mrs Hughes was thrilled; this was the first time Mr Carson had ever shared such details about his Music Hall days.

"... and would we get a little dance with those?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course ..." he replied, and as he paid the bar man for the drinks, he did a couple of brief tap steps where he stood.

Mrs Hughes mouth gaped open in wonder; the esteemed Butler of Downton Abbey had just done a little tap dance!

"Mr Carson that was wonderful ... I cannot believe you just did that ... oh please do it again!" she cheered.

"Ahh sorry Mrs Hughes, that is enough for one evening ... always leave your audience wanting more ..." he said seriously before breaking into a broad smile.

Mrs Hughes shrieked with delighted laughter.

######

As Mrs Crawley watched the two chatting and laughing happily at the bar she let her mind wander to what might be between the pair ... no surely not, she chided herself, although she allowed herself a little hopeful smile.

**_A/N: Thank you very much for your incredible reviews and support. They mean the world to me. Please do keep reviewing if you have time x_**


	4. Mrs Patmore

Chapter 4

_**A/N: Thank you so much for your amazing reviews! They are a pleasure to read x**_

"Mr Carson … will you please go upstairs and lie down? Even just for a little while?" Mrs Hughes said softly, hoping to coax the Butler to rest.

It was clear that he was feeling under par and yet he was determined to continue as usual. He was looking very pale and unsteady on his feet and yet he persisted in claiming that he was fine. So fine that he had bitten the head off several footmen and virtually obliterated the newspaper delivery boy for being a minute late, Mrs Hughes thought wryly.

"Mrs Hughes I am fine …" he said sternly, turning his back to the Housekeeper to sort through some papers on his sideboard. She watched as he had to grip the back of his chair to steady himself.

"Mr Carson you are far from fine … now please at least sit down …" she said gently, trying to maintain her patience with the infuriating man in front of her. Why are men so grumpy and stubborn when they are ill? She thought irritatingly.

"Mrs Hughes I haven't got time to sit down! I am not ill. Will you stop needling me! I have a House to run if you had not noticed … and we have eight guests at dinner this evening …" he shouted, as he turned far too quickly and felt his head go woozy. He immediately regretted having spoken to the Housekeeper so sharply.

That was it; she would not be spoken to like that.

"Fine Mr Carson … just fine … if that is what you wish … you continue to march about, bellowing at the rest of us and making yourself even more ill … I will not bother you again …" she stormed, and then strode out of his pantry.

######

"He's in there ... barking his head off at anyone who dares to come near him, including me, and he won't admit that he is ill ... oh no ... Butler's don't get ill ... they have too many guests to look after ..." she blustered, as she paced up and down in the yard.

Mrs Patmore sat on one of the wooden benches watching her friend.

"Mrs Hughes why don't you sit down for a moment ... you are going to make yourself ill," the Cook soothed.

The Housekeeper plonked herself down on the bench beside the Cook. She leant forward, resting her head in her hands. Mrs Patmore gazed fondly at her friend; she was tied up in knots at the thought of Mr Carson being ill.

Mrs Hughes was very worried about the Butler. She shook her head, frustrated with herself for getting so wound up. She would worry about any of her colleagues if were unwell, she reasoned; in this instant it just happened to be Mr Carson. The Cook rubbed her friends back comfortingly. Mrs Hughes sat upright with a weary smile.

"I just wish he would rest ..." Mrs Hughes sighed.

"I know ... I know you do ..." the Cook smiled.

"Do you think I should go and speak to him again?"

"I would leave him for now ... let him come to you if he needs you," Mrs Patmore replied wisely.

"He'll never do that!" the Housekeeper scoffed, smiling at the Cook.

"He will eventually, believe me. If he needs help, you are the first person in the world he will come to ..." Mrs Patmore smiled warmly, giving the Housekeeper's hand a gentle squeeze.

Mrs Hughes did feel a little calmer.

"Thank you Mrs Patmore ... I am sorry that I am acting like an anxious fool ... I don't know what is wrong with me ... the Butler gets a fever and I fall to pieces," she smiled exhaustedly.

"Not at all ... he is your friend and you are worried ... nothing wrong with that," Mrs Patmore replied gently.

The Cook had always suspected that the Butler and Housekeeper were more than just good friends but she would respect their privacy at all costs, and let them move at their own pace without any intrusion from her. She was also almost certain that neither had realised the depth of their feelings for each other; they might never do so, she reasoned, and as long as they were both content and happy, it did not matter. They were an important part of each other's lives whether they were friends, colleagues or something more. However, at the moment, Mrs Hughes was far from happy.

"How about we have a little tot of brandy to help us relax?" the Cook suggested.

"That would we most welcome but where are we going to get brandy out here?" Mrs Hughes joked.

"Go and look under that plant pot over there ... it's my secret stash for when I am feeling under the weather and need a pick-me-up ..." she explained, a beaming smile on her face.

Mrs Hughes walked over to the plant pot and sure enough there was a half-bottle of brandy underneath.

"Mrs Patmore you are an absolute marvel!" she exclaimed, as both women chuckled.

######

Mrs Hughes was sitting at her desk, tapping her fingers on her writing pad as she tried to focus on her work. Since she had returned indoors, her anger had started to build again. She was furious with him, absolutely furious. How dare he tell her to stop needling him! And how dare he speak to her like that when she was only trying to look after him. It had been at least an hour since she had returned from the yard with Mrs Patmore and despite trying her very best not to think about him, she could not seem to help herself.

Yet, as angry as she was with the obstinate man, she was very worried for him. He was most certainly coming down with a fever, she could see it in the flush of his face, and she could not remember the last time she had seen him looking so tired. She knew that he hated being sick but she also knew that if he did not rest, he could become seriously ill. She shuddered at the thought; as annoying as he could be, he was her very best friend and she cared for him. Mrs Hughes wrestled with her own mind; should she swallow her pride and go and check on him again? Yet he had told her, quite clearly, that he did not want her help and the Cook had wisely advised her just to leave him be. As she continued to wrestle with her conscience, she heard a light tap on the door.

"Come in?" she said, hoping it was him.

"Oh hello James … how can I help you?" she asked, disappointed it was not Mr Carson.

"Mr Carson asked me to give you this note Mrs Hughes …" James said.

"Oh … I see … thank you James … did Mr Carson say anything else?"

"No … just to give you the note …"

"Very well … you may go …" she said, eager to be alone so that she could read the note.

As the door closed behind the footman, she quickly opened it.

_'__Mrs Hughes. __Following my ungracious behaviour earlier today I would fully understand if you would rather throttle me than help me. __However it seems that I may well be ill. __At present, I am sitting in my pantry and am unable to stand without feeling decidedly wobbly. __I would appreciate your assistance. With regards, Mr Carson.'_

"Daft man!" she exclaimed, as she shot out of her seat and raced across the corridor.

She rushed into his pantry, closing the door behind her as she smiled despairingly at the Butler.

"I am sorry," he said weakly.

"You are forgiven … now let's get you upstairs …" she said, grasping his arm and helping him to stand. He let out a pained groan.

"Should I get help?" she asked.

"No … no … not if we can help it … I would rather the staff did not see me so weak … James already thinks I am mad for asking him to deliver a note to you just ten yards away in your sitting-room …" he smiled, and Mrs Hughes smiled too.

"Ok … well let's just take it slowly …" she said, as she supported him as much as she could.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they both knew that they were making slow progress. Thankfully, the corridor was clear from staff but it was only matter of time before someone appeared; the sooner they got Mr Carson to his room, the better.

"How about I ask Mrs Patmore to help?" Mrs Hughes suggested, knowing that Mr Carson would be less embarrassed in front of the Cook than any other member of staff.

"Yes … that would probably be for the best," he conceded.

######

"Mrs Patmore … what on earth are you doing?" Mr Carson gasped in surprise.

Mrs Hughes, Mrs Patmore and Mr Carson had made it to the Butler's bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed whilst the two women stood in front of him.

"I am undressing you … what do you think I am doing?" she said sassily.

Mrs Hughes snorted at her cheek as Mr Carson looked appalled.

"You cannot undress me! My goodness that would be most improper …" he cried.

"Mr Carson … we need to get you into your pyjamas and into bed … don't worry … there is nothing here that Mrs Hughes and I haven't seen before …" she winked, reaching for his jacket again.

"I will undress myself thank you very much … now if you will kindly both step outside!"

"Mr Carson … you barely have the energy to keep your eyes open … let alone get undressed … now don't be such a fuss pot …" the Cook replied.

Mrs Hughes's could see Mr Carson's agitation growing; he looked fit to burst. She knew Mrs Patmore was only trying to help but she was unfortunately only succeeding in making the situation worse. The Housekeeper reached out and placed her hand on the Cook's arm to stop her. Mrs Hughes then looked at Mr Carson reassuringly and spoke softly,

"Mr Carson … Mrs Patmore is correct … you are very weak and I think you will find it difficult to undress on your own … however I understand your discomfort. How about you let us take off your jacket and unfasten your tie … and perhaps slip off your shoes … and then we will step outside to give you some privacy … and to let you finish getting undressed?"

Mrs Patmore watched in admiration as Mrs Hughes's words ably calmed the growly Butler.

"That would be agreeable Mrs Hughes … thank you," he replied sensibly.

"Good," she smiled warmly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Therefore, the Cook and Housekeeper did just that, and Mrs Hughes placed his pyjamas beside him on the bed.

"Give us a shout when you are done … and please do not rush Mr Carson …" Mrs Hughes said sincerely, as he nodded.

######

"He will be alright you know … Doctor Clarkson said that he is through the worst of it …" Mrs Patmore smiled.

The Cook had seen how distracted and worried the Housekeeper had been for the last few days. Mr Carson had endured a very bad case of flu. Mrs Patmore had always thought it was Mrs Hughes that calmed Mr Carson but she could now see that the formidable Butler also provided a reassuring presence for Mrs Hughes. The Housekeeper had seemed somewhat unsettled without him downstairs. Although the Cook knew that her friend would never admit that.

"Yes, yes … of course …" Mrs Hughes replied, as she sipped her tea.

The two friends sat at the table in the staff dining room, dinner had been served and several of the staff were relaxing, reading and chatting around the table, including the Housekeeper and Cook. Mrs Patmore knew that Mrs Hughes was eager to go upstairs to check on the Butler again; however she was trying to restrain herself as it had only been two hours since she had been upstairs to give him his medicine and Mrs Hughes did not want the staff to think she was overly fussing or visiting Mr Carson too frequently. Mrs Patmore had an idea.

"I was going to take Mr Carson a slice of apple pie … I thought something sweet might build his strength … however I have so much to do in the kitchen … could you possibly take it up for me Mrs Hughes?" Mrs Patmore asked levelly.

"Yes … yes … certainly … would you like me to take it up straight away?" Mrs Hughes said eagerly, jumping up from her seat.

"Yes … I think that would be best …" Mrs Patmore replied seriously, withholding her smile until she had reached the kitchen and was out of sight.

######

"Ummmmm … I think my appetite is coming back …" Mr Carson chuckled, as he devoured the apple pie.

"I am very glad to hear that …" Mrs Hughes beamed and then without warning her eyes welled with tears.

She panicked, she did not even have a handkerchief with her. Why on earth am I crying? She delicately dabbed her eyes with her hand, hoping that the tears would recede and that Mr Carson would not notice. She smiled at him briefly and then looked down at her hands in her lap, trying to gather herself, willing herself to regain control of her emotions.

However, Mr Carson had noticed and he was not quite sure what to do. He had an inkling as to why Mrs Hughes was emotional but he did not wish to draw attention to her upset or embarrass her. He placed his empty bowl back down on the tray and stole tentative glances at Mrs Hughes; she had a brave smile on her lips as she gazed down at her lap, deep in thought.

Mr Carson gulped with nerves and then did something very unusual for him, he reached across to Mrs Hughes and took her hand in his, stroking it gently as it rested on her knee. He looked downwards, not daring to catch her gaze as he continued to lightly hold her hand.

Neither needed to speak, this small gesture spoke a thousand words. _I am alright Mrs Hughes. __I am getting better. __There is no need for you to worry. _ _I will always be here for you._

She squeezed his hand in return. _I was so worried for you Mr Carson. __I am so pleased that you are well. __In fact I am overcome with relief. __I need you by my side._

They both continued to sit in silence, happy and content, holding their best friends hand and gaining strength from the other.

Neither noticed the friendly Cook gazing through the door; she had brought some tea for them both but with a joyous smile, she did an about-turn and tip-toed back along the corridor with the tea tray still in hand.


	5. Mr Molesley

**_A/N: _****_Mr Molesley was not an obvious choice for this next chapter but I thought I would give it a go! _****_I am not totally happy with it but I am trying to show the whole spectrum of emotions Elsie and Charles have for one another and, as we know, they infuriate each other just as much as they care for each other._**

**_I am going to try to write a chapter involving each of the main upstairs and downstairs characters- and perhaps one or two new characters- although I may 'pair' some up otherwise we'll never get to the end. _**

**_Also, a couple of you are wondering whether Elsie and Charles are already married in this story - that is an interesting idea but I can assure you that, in this particular case, they are not. _****_They are friends and colleagues, oblivious at present to any other feelings they may or may not have x_**

Chapter 5

"Mr Carson have a heart! The girl did not deserve such a hostile reception ..." Mrs Hughes exclaimed as they stood in his pantry.

"Mrs Hughes, Lady Edith had a child out of wedlock ... I am only saying that sadly she must now reap what she has sown ..." he sighed.

The servants and the Family had just returned from Church. It has been the first Sunday service that Lady Edith had attended since the scandal broke. The congregation had been frosty towards her to say the least. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were still wearing their Sunday clothes, as well as their coats and hats, as they stood in the Butler's pantry.

"... and I am only saying that sometimes you need to be more caring towards your fellow man ... should it have been Lady Mary in this predicament I have no doubt you would have been more understanding ..." she said truthfully.

"Ah but Lady Mary did not get herself into this predicament now did she?" he said confidently.

"Well that was more by luck than planning ..." Mrs Hughes exclaimed.

She did not need to say any more; they both knew that she was referring to the unfortunate incident with Mr Pamuk. Mr Carson immediately realised that he was on shaky ground and he had no wish to discuss this disagreeable matter further. They were both quite breathless with their argument. They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yes?" the Butler shouted, loud enough to make the silver in the cabinet rattle.

Both Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes spun to stare at the hapless Footman.

Mr Molesley cowered in the doorway; he deduced quickly that he may have arrived at an inopportune moment. He could see that Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson were in dispute; in fact, he thought that if he had arrived a minute later, there may well have been blood on the floor.

"Umm ... His Lordship asked if luncheon could be a little later than planned Mr Carson ... the Family are a little tired after Church ..." he stumbled.

"I bet they are ... having to withstand such condemnation ... why can't people be kinder?" Mrs Hughes said, another gentle rebuke that was not missed by Mr Carson. He sighed heavily.

"I will speak to Mrs Patmore ... please reassure His Lordship that it won't be a problem," Mr Carson said, he was feeling very weary himself.

"Right you are Mr Carson ... it is a sad business isn't it?" Mr Molesley added.

The Butler raised his eyebrows at the Footman, incredulous that he should try to join this conversation.

"In what way is it _sad _Mr Molesley?" Mrs Hughes asked, barely controlling her temper. She could sense from his tone that he was also not overly sympathetic to Lady Edith's plight.

Mr Carson fleetingly thought the Footman would be wise to run for cover. Mr Molesley often irritated Mr Carson but he did not wish to see the man annihilated; it would be like a mouse squaring up to a lion if he dared to oppose Mrs Hughes; and the Housekeeper did have a mighty roar, the Butler chuckled inwardly.

"Well … umm … it is sad because … umm … well … Lady Edith has ... unfortunately ... she has brought shame on her family … although I do feel sorry for her …" he quickly added.

"I am sure Lady Edith is overwhelmed by your sympathy Mr Molesley," Mrs Hughes said dryly, wondering who she should kill first, Mr Carson or the Footman.

"Mrs Hughes … it is no use getting angry with us … what Lady Edith did was wrong …" Mr Carson said flatly, gulping as he looked at the Housekeeper squarely.

Mrs Hughes made a noise, somewhere between a sigh and an angry gasp.

"I am very disappointed in you Mr Carson," she said, before making to walk out of his room.

Mr Carson looked shaken by that judgement; he could cope with Mrs Hughes being angry with him but her being disappointed in him, well that was an altogether different matter. Mr Molesley looked at the Butler; a little too smugly for Mr Carson's liking. There was no doubt that Mrs Hughes's annoyance had been well and truly deflected back to the Butler, although Mrs Hughes did scowl at both of them before exiting the pantry.

Both men stood chastised.

"Well …" Mr Carson flustered, not quite sure what else to say with the Footman still present.

Mr Molesley exhaled loudly.

"I think you might be in the doghouse Mr Carson …" the Footman stated honestly.

Mr Carson's mouth dropped open as he looked to Mr Molesley in astonishment. Mr Molesley realised he had perhaps said too much, as he nodded and scurried out of the room. Mr Carson's jaw was still hanging open.

######

Mr Molesley could see that the row between Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson was ongoing as he sat alongside them at lunchtime. They were being civil towards one another but there was no hiding the displeasure between the pair. They had barely spoken a word to each other. The Footman wondered if they always argued so zealously? He realised that he had only once before seen a man and woman fight in such a way. Certainly, His Lordship never appeared to be at odds with Lady Grantham, Anna and Mr Bates seemed to have a placid relationship, even when he had witnessed the forthright Lady Mary and Mr Crawley together, they rarely seemed to fall out so spectacularly.

However, his parents had bickered constantly, spending much of their time at loggerheads. No-one would believe it if they met his sedate father in his dotage but his parents' relationship had been stormy. His mother was very hot-headed, with his father only slightly mellower. He had lived in a volatile home, it is what had made him such a quiet and considered man; he simply could not compete. Yet he never had any doubt that his parents loved one another. Yes, he thought, there were many similarities between his parents and the Heads of Staff. Mr Molesley then reminded himself that Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson were not a married couple.

######

Mr Molesley was upstairs, collecting the glasses from luncheon, as he heard Lady Edith address Mr Carson in the Great Hall outside.

"Carson … may I have a word?" Lady Edith asked.

"Yes Milady … of course … how may I help you?" he replied formally.

"Oh I don't need I thing … I just wanted to say thank you … to both you and Mrs Hughes. I saw you fending off parishioners this morning … I have no doubt that they were highly critical of my situation … but it looked to me like several were sent off with a flea in their ear … I appreciate your support very much Carson and I shall offer my thanks to Mrs Hughes as well …" she said sincerely.

Mr Carson looked very sheepish. Lady Edith had almost read the situation correctly; certainly tens and tens of villagers had been sent on their way following a staunch defence of Lady Edith; however, for the most part Mr Carson had stood silently as the parishioners felt the full weight of Mrs Hughes's loyalty and wrath. As he looked at the young lady before him, he realised that she had undergone a very traumatic period in her life. He had failed to show her much empathy and he knew that he needed to be honest with Lady Edith and to show her the kindness that had failed him this morning. He could hear Mrs Hughes's words ringing in his ears. In fact, her words had been ringing loudly since she had left his pantry; there was no-one whose opinion mattered more to Mr Carson.

"Lady Edith, I really do not deserve your thanks …" he began.

Lady Edith looked at him sympathetically.

"Don't worry Carson … I know that Mrs Hughes would have led the bulk of the defence … however, you did not add to their criticism of me and for that I am very thankful," she smiled.

Mr Carson felt a sudden flush of care for the young woman; she was more perceptive than he had ever given her credit for, and she was very magnanimous in her understanding of his own muted response. Oh dear me, Mrs Hughes is right again; Lady Edith did not deserve such a hostile reaction.

"You are quite right Milady, Mrs Hughes was unwavering in her loyalty and support for you … the parishioners soon regretted any ill-informed or spiteful comments they had made … she was quite terrifying …" he said, a smile on his lips. Lady Edith chuckled lightly.

"However, if I am honest … I did not support you well Lady Edith … may I speak frankly for a moment?" he asked, and Lady Edith nodded.

He was unused to speaking to a member of the Family like this, and he had certainly never conversed with the middle daughter in such a fashion. However, he needed to put this right; for Lady Edith's sake, but also for Mrs Hughes.

"… I am a relic with old-fashioned ideas Milady and I am afraid that I find it more difficult to be at ease with your situation … I cannot ignore the impact on your family …" he said truthfully.

"I respect your honesty Carson … I, too, am ashamed of the criticism I have brought upon my family," she replied gently.

He felt even worse after her admission; show some kindness to your fellow man, Charles Carson.

"Lady Edith I should not have allowed my personal beliefs to sway my behaviour. I should have shown greater compassion. Whilst your situation is far from ideal, you have no cause to feel ashamed … your daughter was born out of love and that is a wonderful thing. I am sure she will grow into a lovely young woman and make you proud … and I am sure she will also be very proud of her mother, and particularly proud of the way you have weathered this most recent storm," he finished.

Lady Edith felt tears fill her eyes as she gazed at the sensible Butler. His honest words meant all the more to Edith because she knew that he did not agree with her actions and she also knew that his heart had always been with her elder sister rather than with her. Therefore, for him to say those words with such sincerity; it touched her greatly.

"Thank you Carson," she said, her voice wavering with emotion. She reached up and surprised the Butler by giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"You are welcome Milady," he said, biting back his own emotion.

Lady Edith left the Great Hall, as Mr Carson remained. Mr Molesley walked to the door of the dining room, only to see the Butler dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief.

######

Mr Molesley volunteered to go into the Village for Mrs Hughes; she needed some stamps and he wanted to get back in her good books. He was collecting some money from her when Mr Carson walked into the room. The two Heads of Household paused and stared at the other. Mr Molesley held his breath; why do I always have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? He knew that this was the first time Mr Carson had come downstairs following his chat with Lady Edith and he also knew that Mrs Hughes was totally unaware that her words from earlier had greatly affected the Butler, so much so that he had shown great empathy to Lady Edith.

"Mrs Hughes may I have a word?" he asked.

Mr Molesley noticed that the Butler had none of his bluster from earlier. Mr Carson looked just as the Footman's father used to look when he returned to his mother, tail between his legs, after they had fought.

"I am very busy Mr Carson … can it wait until later?" she said.

"It will only take a minute Mrs Hughes … I would be grateful," he tried again.

"I am sorry Mr Carson but I am in the middle of something …" she said.

As difficult as it was to resist talking to him; she was still smarting from earlier and she could not cope with talking to him yet, particularly if she was going to have to listen to him outline further reasons why Lady Edith was in the wrong. She was still disappointed with him; he had been unfeeling in his rigid view towards the young woman and Mrs Hughes did not like it one bit. She felt hurt that he could act in such a way, that someone she regarded in such high esteem could behave so unfeelingly.

"Very well," he said, as he nodded to them both and walked out of the room. He daren't say anymore with Mr Molesley present.

Mr Carson desperately wanted to put things right with Mrs Hughes; he could not stand it when they rowed like this. Their gentle banter and bickering was fine, quite enjoyable in fact, but he could not cope with the disappointment in her eyes. He realised that she had never, before today, said that she was disappointed in him. Yet, shamefully, he had previously said it to her. He walked with a heavy heart back to his pantry.

Mr Molesley could see that Mrs Hughes was still upset; her eyes were fixed on the doorway where the Butler had just walked out. She looked like she wanted to talk to him, to accept his apology, but her pride would not quite let her yet. So many times the Footman, as a young lad, had sat at the kitchen table with his mother, her lost in thought and obviously mulling over some argument with his father. He hoped, like his parents, that Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes would eventually make-up. He shook his head, reminding himself again that the Butler and Housekeeper were not married; why do I keep thinking of them in that way?

"Umm … here you are Mr Molesley … that should be enough," she said, handing him the money.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes," he said, walking to the door.

He paused; it was not his place to say anything, he would never normally say anything, but maybe he should just this once? He turned nervously to face the Housekeeper.

"Mrs Hughes … about Mr Carson," he began.

"Yes?" she said.

"Do you think you are being a little hard on him?" Mr Molesley asked.

"Mr Molesley that is not your place to say ... what is wrong with you today … heaven's whatever next?" she stumbled, staring at the Footman in astonishment.

"I know that it is none of my business Mrs Hughes … and I do beg your pardon … it's just ... well you should know that Mr Carson apologised to Lady Edith earlier ... he admitted that he had not been supportive at Church and he reassured her that she had nothing to feel ashamed about ... he was very kind ..." Mr Molesley finished, deliberately ending on that important word.

Mrs Hughes looked stunned by this information; she could not quite believe it. However, she was determined not to show her emotions to Mr Molesley.

"Well ... fine … that is fine ... but I am not sure why you are telling me this?" she stated defensively.

"I simply wanted you to know that Mr Carson thinks very highly of you and your views ... so much so that he took your words to heart and he showed compassion to Lady Edith," he explained.

"Fine … thank you ... that will be all Mr Molesley," she said, mortified and unsettled by this conversation.

He smiled sadly, hoping he had not made things worse, and left the room.

Mrs Hughes stood in the centre of her room utterly amazed.

######

She tapped on the door lightly, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he stood to greet her. His nerves were on edge as he hoped they could resolve their disagreement.

Mrs Hughes walked into his pantry, closing the door behind her.

"I need to apologise," she began. She had been running over the events of the day for the last half hour and she needed to accept her share of the blame.

"Apologise?" he said, gobsmacked by this turn of events. It was surely he that had to apologise to the Housekeeper.

"Yes … I was wrong … firstly, because I should have had more respect for your opinion … rather than criticising you for not always thinking the way I do …" she began.

"Oh …" was all Mr Carson could manage.

"… and secondly, because I know that you were very kind to Lady Edith earlier ... I am sure that she greatly appreciated that Mr Carson and I know that I certainly do …" she said warmly, smiling at the Butler.

"Oh …" he responded.

Mrs Hughes looked at him in amusement.

"Are you going to keep saying 'oh' Mr Carson or do you have anything further to add?" she kidded.

A mischievous smile tweaked at his lips.

"I am still trying to get over the shock of you admitting that you were wrong … that is normally what I say in our conversations …" he teased, smiling at the Housekeeper.

Mrs Hughes bit her lip to withhold her laughter; she felt immediately happier now that they were back on teasing terms.

"Well don't be getting used to it as I can't imagine there'll be much cause for me to say it very often ..." she smirked.

Mr Carson chuckled.

"Quite right ... and as much as I enjoyed hearing it ... you have nothing to apologise for … I completely understand why you did not respect my opinion Mrs Hughes because I was totally and utterly wrong … I should have shown Lady Edith more compassion … the girl is going through a horrific period in her life and my judgemental, critical approach was not helpful … I am ashamed that it took your words to make me behave as I should have done all along … and I am thankful to you for showing me the error of my ways … your opinion means the world to me …" he said sincerely.

"Thank you Mr Carson," she replied, feeling quite overcome.

She smiled tenderly at the Butler and he returned her smile ten-fold. She then watched as he scrunched his forehead in contemplation.

"Mrs Hughes … may I ask … how did you know that I had apologised to Lady Edith?"

"Oh … you have our resident agony aunt to thank for that … Mr Molesley … he overheard you and he decided to put me well and truly in my place … told me that I was being too hard on you …" she smiled.

Mr Carson chuckled again.

"He told me that I was in the doghouse …" the Butler joked.

"He was right ..." she dead-panned.

Mr Carson nodded, conceding the point with a smile.

"... but I still don't understand … Lady Edith and I were in the Great Hall … he was nowhere to be seen …" the Butler puzzled.

"Perhaps he was swinging from one of the chandeliers without being noticed?" she joked.

"Or hiding behind a rather large plant pretending to be a coat stand?" he laughed.

Both were delighted as they laughed happily together; the conversation had turned silly but they did not mind one bit. Mr Carson was the first to turn the discussion serious again, as he gazed warmly at Mrs Hughes.

"I couldn't bear that you were disappointed in me," he said sincerely, his voice full of emotion.

Mrs Hughes flinched knowing that she had indeed directed this accusation towards the Butler. She knew how hurt she had been when Mr Carson had previously used the term towards her.

"I am no longer disappointed Mr Carson … in fact, I could not be prouder of you," she said tenderly, as she watched the broadest smile appear on the Butler's face.

"Mr Carson … the Dowager is arriving … oh I am sorry …" Mr Molesley stuttered, as he stood inside the pantry.

The Footman stood nervously, not knowing what he had walked into and scolding himself for interrupting the Heads of Household yet again.

"Ahh Mr Molesley … just in time … I wonder … have you got any further words of advice for Mrs Hughes or I? Any other sage words that you would like to share with us?" Mr Carson said.

Mrs Hughes knew that the Butler was joking but the poor Footman looked alarmed. She shook her head with amusement at Mr Carson.

"Umm … no … I didn't mean to … I just wanted to …" he faltered.

"Take no notice of him Mr Molesley … and thank you for your help today," Mrs Hughes said.

She then took both the Footman and the Butler by surprise as she reached up and gave Mr Molesley a brief kiss on the cheek. She then gave a playful look to Mr Carson and strolled out of the room. The Butler's jaw dropped open once again as Mr Molesley looked quite overjoyed and just a little bit smug.

**_A/N: Your reviews are wonderful! Thank you very much and do continue to let me know what you think x_**


	6. Lady Edith & Lady Rose

**A/N: Thank you again for the reviews- they mean so much. This chapter has less observation of Charles and Elsie than in previous chapters and so we will just have to observe them for ourselves until they are spotted by Lady Edith and Lady Rose! Hope you enjoy it x**

Chapter 6

"Mr Carson … I wondered if you had a couple of hours to spare this afternoon … I would appreciate your opinion on some chairs that Her Ladyship has asked me to order for the Library?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"Umm … well yes … yes … I haven't taken my half day in weeks and so I could certainly spare some time this afternoon …" he replied.

"Lovely … well the chairs are from Herron's in Ripon and so perhaps we could meet in my sitting-room at one and then walk into the Village together to get the bus …" she said.

"Yes certainly," he said.

"Very good", Mrs Hughes smiled and walked out of his pantry.

Mr Carson had been a little surprised by the Housekeeper's request. They rarely ever ran errands together. However, he was pleased that she valued his opinion and he always enjoyed Mrs Hughes's company. Yes, he realised, he was very much looking forward to their little outing, even if it was simply to view some furniture. There was another reason Mr Carson was pleased about this unexpected visit; he smiled knowingly; it was his birthday. This was a fact that he always kept secret from the staff; he did not like a fuss or to be reminded of his advancing years. Even his closest colleague Mrs Hughes was unaware of his birthday, he thought happily.

As a child, Mr Carson's birthday had never been marked in anyway. He father was not a sentimental man and his mother had died when he was very young. He had never had a cake or gifts like some of his other friends. However, this never bothered the ever sensible Charles Carson; he had always been a modest and prudent man who did not like frivolities. He was more than happy for this day to go by without mention; it meant nothing special to him. As Butler, year on year, he was happy to focus on his normal duties and forget this day altogether. This suited him perfectly. However, as much as he was glad that his birthday remained unknown; he had to concede that it would be lovely to get out of the Abbey and, he thought hopefully, perhaps he could even treat Mrs Hughes to some afternoon tea at one of Ripon's many teashops. This would be a welcome change for the two friends.

######

"What does she need with new chairs? What is wrong with the old ones?" Mrs Patmore asked.

"Perhaps she fancies a change …" Mrs Hughes answered vaguely.

"I suppose so … will you be gone long?"

"I shouldn't think so … it depends what bus we catch to Ripon and back … ummm … I don't suppose you managed to make some of those pralines for me?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"I did yes … they are in the bag on the counter … funny though … I didn't think you liked them that much … I always thought they were Mr Carson's favourite …" Mrs Patmore teased lightly.

"Are they? I hadn't realised …" the Housekeeper replied steadily.

"Oh really … I will see you later then," the Cook smiled.

######

"It's nice to be out of the house for a bit isn't it?" Mr Carson said happily, as they sat on the bus to Ripon.

"It is … I am pleased you could come with me …" she smiled.

"Of course …" he smiled.

They were approaching the bus stop for Ripon town centre. Mr Carson made to reach for the bell but Mrs Hughes gently touched his arm to stop him. He looked at her in confusion.

"This is our stop Mrs Hughes …" he said.

"I may have told a little fib about where we are going …" she smiled, biting her lip.

"A little fib?" he asked.

"Yes … indulge me Mr Carson … we will be getting off in a couple more stops …" she said.

He was surprised but intrigued. Where on earth were they going?

#####

"Studley Royal Park?" Mr Carson said, as he looked at the entrance in wonder.

"Yes … I thought it would make a pleasant change for us … to get a little fresh air and to enjoy the scenery …" Mrs Hughes said.

Mrs Hughes wanted to do something nice for her friend; he worked so hard and he deserved a treat.

"I have always wanted to visit the park … however I never seemed to have the time …" Mr Carson added.

"Yes I know … you mentioned it to me once … you had been reading a book about local history I think … and you told me about the water gardens … they sounded beautiful and so I thought we should see them for ourselves …" she smiled.

Mr Carson was truly touched that Mrs Hughes should remember such a thing.

"You remembered that?" he gasped.

"I did … and I remember you said that John Aislabie created the gardens … and that alongside the gardens there are temples, follies and waterways … and a deer park I think … I do listen to you Mr Carson …" she teased.

Mr Carson smiled, feeling truly touched. He felt a lump in his throat as he smiled at Mrs Hughes.

"You must be the only one who does … Mrs Hughes … do you think it is acceptable for us to … well to partake in such a pleasant afternoon … you don't feel a little guilty?" he said.

He wanted to visit the Park with Mrs Hughes, he really did. However, they had told Mrs Patmore that they were looking at furniture for the Library.

"Not at all … even you and I are allowed to have a half day off every now and then Mr Carson … don't you think?" she asked.

Yes she is quite right, I am being ridiculous, Mr Carson thought.

"Yes … yes of course … thank you Mrs Hughes … thank you so much … I am not sure what I have done to deserve such a lovely surprise but thank you …"

"It will be enjoyable for me too so no thanks are necessary … shall we?" she said, motioning to the entrance.

He nodded happily.

######

They spent the next two hours blissfully wandering around the water gardens, happily devouring the pralines Mrs Patmore had made as they walked. They had been given a plan of the gardens at the entrance and Mr Carson delighted in finding all of the points of interest on the plan and reading out the information to Mrs Hughes, as well as adding further facts from his own knowledge. She was pleased to see Mr Carson enjoying himself and, as always, she appreciated his good company and his knowledge very much.

They had covered all points of interest and so they sat down on a wooden seat overlooking one of the most beautiful fountains. They were content to sit in silence, relaxed in each others company.

"It's breathtaking isn't it? " he sighed eventually, as he took in his surroundings.

The Housekeeper looked at Mr Carson and smiled.

"It certainly is ... quite heavenly ..." she returned, a dreamy expression on her face as she looked at the expanse of gardens around her.

The Butler looked at Mrs Hughes and smiled.

They both looked ahead once again.

"Bliss," he whispered.

######

There was a small café at the entrance and Mr Carson suggested a cup of tea before they got the bus home. As they walked towards the building, a gardener pushing a wheelbarrow was walking their way. Mr Carson doffed his hat to the man.

"Good afternoon Sir ..." the ruddy-faced and cheerful man offered.

"Good afternoon," Mr Carson replied politely.

As the gardener walked on by, he added warmly,

"... and to your Missus,"

He then disappeared behind them. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes both paused in surprise, both staring straight ahead, not daring to look at the other. The Butler's breathing had hastened as he rubbed the back of his neck and Mrs Hughes was wringing her hands, finding something immensely interesting on the ground. She was the first to gather herself, turning to face Mr Carson, determined to alleviate the uncomfortable atmosphere that had suddenly developed.

"Well at least he didn't think I was your mother!" she kidded.

Mr Carson broke out into the most relieved and hearty laughter.

"Hardly!" he exclaimed, as he continued to laugh.

They had both now relaxed, relief flooding through them, laughing and smiling at the other.

"Shall we have that tea Mrs Hughes?" he asked.

"That would be delightful," she responded.

They walked towards the entrance, at ease again. However, the ease would not last long as they entered the cosy establishment and were greeted by two unexpected faces.

"Mrs Hughes … Mr Carson!" Lady Rose shrieked.

The Housekeeper's eyes widened in surprise, this had not been part of her plan. Mr Carson looked like he might keel over. Neither had spoken yet.

"Have you been visiting the water gardens?" Lady Edith asked.

"Yes … yes Milady ... we have … it is our half day and so we thought we might enjoy the gardens …" Mrs Hughes smiled.

"How lovely … you don't usually have your half day off together do you?" Lady Rose asked. She could never remember a time when the House was missing both of its Heads of Staff.

"No … not usually Milady ... but Mr Carson was meeting an old friend in Ripon and I had some errands to run in town and so it seemed to make sense …" Mrs Hughes said.

The Housekeeper had no idea why she had just made-up such lies but she suddenly felt very conscious about what it might look like for her and Mr Carson to be spending the afternoon together. She immediately reproached herself for such a silly notion; the truth was that they were friends enjoying a pleasant couple of hours in the Park; what was wrong with that? They were colleagues and they were entitled to spend some time together away from the Abbey if they so wished. However, she noticed Mr Carson's relief at her words and so she knew that he was obviously having similar thoughts.

"Yes … yes … I was visiting a friend and … we thought it made sense …" he repeated, quite panic-stricken. Mrs Hughes almost snorted with laughter; she could always count on Mr Carson to be more agitated than her.

"And have you enjoyed your afternoon?" Lady Edith asked.

"Oh yes … it has been wonderful …" Mr Carson added sincerely, not being able to hide his obvious enjoyment.

Mrs Hughes was thrilled with his response. She was very pleased to see that he had found the afternoon enjoyable.

Lady Edith smiled at the two beloved members of staff.

"Well that is lovely to hear … to be honest … we came mainly for the tea … they have the most delicious chocolate cake … I can recommend it …" Lady Edith joked.

"That is good to know," Mrs Hughes smiled politely.

"Well then ... we shall leave you to it … enjoy the rest of your afternoon …" Lady Rose chimed.

"Thank you Milady … and Lady Edith," Charles replied formally.

They bid their farewells and Lady Edith and Lady Rose stepped outside.

As soon as the door to the café was closed they both squealed in excitement, linking arms as they walked to their car.

"Do you think we have just interrupted Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes on a date?" Lady Rose asked enthusiastically.

"Rose … honestly … they are friends …" Lady Edith said, although she wanted there to be more.

Both Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were very dear to Lady Edith, particularly following their recent support and care, and she would think it utterly adorable if romance blossomed between the pair. They were certainly very fond of each other and Lady Edith knew that Mrs Hughes had a calming influence on the Butler. She had often wondered if they meant more to each other than simply friends but she was not about to admit that to an overly-excitable Rose.

"Friends who go on romantic strolls through water gardens …" Lady Rose teased.

"Not a word about this back at the House Rose … they are both very private people … not a word …" she ordered.

Lady Rose nodded; she would not say a word to anyone else but she would enjoy gently teasing Carson about the meeting when she next saw him.

Despite playing down to Lady Rose what they had just seen, Edith could not stop thinking about the way Mr Carson had beamed at Mrs Hughes when he described their wonderful afternoon, and the way Mrs Hughes had then looked thrilled at his obvious joy. They clearly made each other very happy, Lady Edith thought, and in her mind there was no truer sign of love than that.

######

"Mrs Hughes, thank you again for a wonderful afternoon …" Mr Carson said genuinely, as they approached the Servant's entrance.

After the excitement of bumping into Lady Rose and Lady Edith, they had enjoyed some tea and chocolate cake. Lady Edith was correct; it was delicious. Mr Carson had insisted on paying for the tea and cake, and so Mrs Hughes insisted that he accept a token of her thanks; she had bought him a beautiful book about the history of the gardens, as well as the history of the Abbey ruins that stood within the grounds. Mr Carson was overcome with such a lovely gift and he tried to stop Mrs Hughes purchasing it for him, thinking it was far too generous. However, she was determined to buy it. He held it proudly in his arms as they stood outside the entrance and he knew that it would always be a lovely memento of their afternoon. He could not tell Mrs Hughes, but it had been the best birthday he could ever remember.

"You are very welcome Mr Carson … and I hope you did not mind my little fib about the chairs … I just wasn't sure if you would agree to take time off, had it not been for a work-related matter," she smiled.

"You are probably right Mrs Hughes … and I am very glad that you did fib … I cannot remember when I last had such an enjoyable afternoon …" he replied.

Mrs Hughes beamed at the Butler. For a moment, they both simply smiled at the other. They both then became aware that they were staring.

"Right … well … we should get inside …" Mrs Hughes flustered, as Mr Carson agreed.

They walked along the servant's corridor and Mr Carson stood at the door to his pantry as he watched Mrs Hughes make her way to her sitting room. Just before she reached her room, and without even turning to face him, Mrs Hughes whispered,

"Happy Birthday Mr Carson."


	7. Daisy Mason

**_A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews for the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this chapter too x_**

Chapter 7

"Please tell me that it is not true?" Mr Carson bellowed as he entered the kitchen.

Mrs Hughes was standing with Daisy; the young girl was updating the Housekeeper about her recent visit to Mr Mason's farm. They were both startled by the Butler's sudden appearance.

"What is not true? That Santa Claus does not exist?" Mrs Hughes joked.

Mr Carson rolled his eyes, as Daisy held back a giggle.

"Tell me that you are not going to that Labour Party meeting this evening …" he gasped dramatically, his arms flailing at his sides. It was not difficult for Mrs Hughes to imagine him on the stage.

"Well I am afraid that I cannot tell you that Mr Carson because I would be lying …" she said plainly.

Daisy winced, waiting for the Butler's explosion.

"I don't believe it! Why on earth would you want to go and listen to those rabble rousers? The Labour Party! Their beliefs are prosperous … you should not be supporting them!" he cried.

"Mr Carson, I am entitled to support whoever I like and so please do not speak to me in such a manner …" she said calmly, somehow managing to contain her temper, and only because Daisy was present.

Mr Carson looked furious and yet a little shamed by Mrs Hughes's polite but firm response. The two glared at each other in a stand-off as Daisy stood uncomfortably beside Mrs Hughes. The young girl decided to try to ease the tension.

"Whether you agree with Mr MacDonald's politics or not … he is very handsome isn't he?" she said.

Mrs Hughes let out a snort of laughter, as she patted Daisy's arm. Mr Carson held his hands in the air in despair and marched back out of the kitchen.

######

Daisy was in the annex to the kitchen putting the finishing touches to a raspberry blancmange, when she heard Mrs Hughes walking down the corridor; she could always recognise the jangle of her keys. She could also always recognise the deep, bellowing voice of Mr Carson. Oh dear me, Daisy flinched, knowing that they must be walking towards each other.

Daisy hoped so much that they were not about to fight again; Daisy hated to see the Butler and Housekeeper arguing. She liked it when they were smiling at each other, supporting each other, even teasing each other. The young girl knew that Mrs Hughes made Mr Carson smile and very few people ever achieved that. She had also observed how happy the Housekeeper was whenever she was in the company of the Butler; well she was happy most of the time, sometimes Mr Carson obviously did drive Mrs Hughes mad. She smiled to herself, thinking back to them holding hands at the beach; they were a picture of joy and contentment. Daisy had always wanted parents like Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes. She would not dare to breathe this to anyone but she often thought they would make perfect partners, they complimented each other so well. She dreamed of the Butler and Housekeeper getting married and having a happy ending, just like in one of her soppy, romantic novels.

"I have the invoices you asked for Mr Carson …" Mrs Hughes said civilly, as they both stood in the corridor.

They had not spoken a word since his outburst in the kitchen.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes …" he replied impassively.

The Housekeeper was still furious with him; how dare he tell her who she should or should not support. She stood for a moment, presuming he might apologise for his earlier behaviour, yet he did not say a word; he simply stood silently. Eventually, she lost patience with him.

"Have you nothing to say Mr Carson?" she asked tetchily.

He raised himself up to his full height.

"If you mean about earlier … no I haven't … I am still very disappointed that you are attending such a meeting," he said stubbornly.

Mrs Hughes's mouth dropped open; she could quite happily have punched him on the nose!

"You are disappointed because I choose to have different views from you ... my goodness Mr Carson, I have never heard such arrogance in all of my days … how dare you!" she seethed.

Mr Carson faltered at that; she really was very angry with him, in fact she was livid. Yet he was angry too. He knew rationally that he had no right to be; she was entitled to her beliefs just as he was entitled to his. He also knew that he had spoken to her quite rudely and abruptly. However, he couldn't help it; he was highly agitated that she should have such different beliefs to him. Socialist beliefs no less! Although he and Mrs Hughes bickered over small issues, they normally agreed on the things that mattered most; their values and their morals were exactly the same. It unsettled him greatly to know that over something as important as politics, they were poles apart.

Mrs Hughes waited again for a response; she could not believe that Mr Carson was behaving so poorly. When no reply was forthcoming; she let out an exasperated sigh, flung the invoices at the Butler and stomped off down the corridor. Mr Carson strode into his pantry.

Daisy stepped into the corridor only to see the receding backs of the Butler and Housekeeper as they marched off in different directions.

######

For the remainder of the afternoon the two Heads of Household avoided each other; both angry and disgruntled. Mrs Hughes had been upstairs checking guest bedrooms for most of that time; however she had just descended the stairs and planned to have an hour catching up on paperwork in her sitting-room. As she entered her room she noticed an envelope propped up on her desk. It did not have a stamp and so she knew it must have been delivered by hand. She opened the envelope and found a note inside.

_'Dear Mrs Hughes. I am very sorry for shouting at you earlier. I know that I am sometimes very grouchy but I don't mean to be. I sometimes speak before I am calm. Also my voice is very loud and I am very tall and therefore I sometimes appear more scary and grumpy than I really am. I am a nice man really. I should not have shouted at you, especially when you always take such good care of me and the other staff. I also should not have criticised you for having different beliefs to me. You mean the world to me Mrs Hughes and I promise to be nicer to you in future. I also promise to smile more often instead of frowning all of the time. Please meet me at the bench by the old oak tree so that we can be friends again. Love and best wishes, Mr Carson'._

Mrs Hughes smiled as she read the note; it was adorable but it certainly was not written by Mr Carson. She chuckled as she quickly read it again. It had a childlike quality to the writing although she noted that the author had been at pains to write it out neatly. Even if the writing style and vocabulary had been more mature the use of the word 'love' at the end of the note would have given the game away! Mr Carson would never write such an endearment. Mrs Hughes suspected a certain Assistant Cook. She wondered with amusement if he had also received a note. With the note in hand, she headed outside to the bench.

######

About fifteen minutes earlier Mr Carson had watched as an envelope slid under the door of his pantry. As he picked it up, and observed his name on the front, he could not think who it could be from?

_'Dear Mr Carson. I am still a little angry with you but I am willing to forgive you as I know you are a kind man really, no matter how much you try to hide this. You did not speak to me very nicely earlier but I am hoping you have now calmed down. We may have different views sometimes but we can still be friends. Friends do not have to agree on everything. Even though you are grumpy and stubborn and annoying and bad-tempered, you are a good man and I will always look after you. However, you do owe me an apology. Please meet me at the old oak tree so that we can be friends again. Love and best wishes, Mrs Hughes'._

Mr Carson chuckled as he read the note; Mrs Hughes certainly had not written it but he feared she would share many of it's sentiments. He suspected a certain Assistant Cook; he had seen the worry on Daisy's face as they had bickered in the kitchen. He wondered if Mrs Hughes had also received a note … could Mrs Hughes be at the bench?

######

Mr Carson was sitting on the bench when Mrs Hughes arrived. He recognised her footsteps approaching from behind and stood to greet her. They both smiled warily at the other; waiting for the other to speak first.

"Daisy even left us cocoa and biscuits," he finally said, holding up a flask and a tin of shortbreads.

"You mean _you_ didn't write my note?" she said, pretending to be surprised.

"I am afraid not … dare I ask what it said?" he laughed.

"Basically, it said that you are grumpy and loud and also very sorry for the way you spoke to me earlier …" Mrs Hughes summarised, her expression turning serious as she spoke the final words.

"All of that is true … I am very sorry," he said honestly.

"And you are also _very_ grumpy," Mrs Hughes returned dryly.

"Very grumpy … and according to my note I am also annoying and stubborn and bad-tempered … but despite all of that you will always look after me …" he said with a gentle smile.

"Also true," she smiled warmly.

"No prizes for guessing whose side Daisy is on?" he chuckled.

"I always knew that girl had good judgement … although to be fair she did also say that you were a nice man really," Mrs Hughes grinned.

"That goodness for that!" he laughed.

"Shall we have some cocoa then?" she asked, and Mr Carson nodded.

######

They had been sitting on the bench for about ten minutes, both enjoying their hot, milky drink in relative silence, other than some passing pleasantries about the good weather and the beautiful gardens that surrounded them.

"I am very sorry Mrs Hughes … I had no right to try to force my views on you," he said earnestly.

She turned to face him.

"No you did not … I have a mind of my own Mr Carson … I am not some flighty woman who can be cowed into a particular set of ideas …" she said steadily.

They needed to discuss this; it could not simply be brushed under the carpet. The Butler had the good grace to look chastened.

"Yes of course Mrs Hughes … I never meant to suggest otherwise …" he said.

He felt shamed. One of his friend's finest qualities was her intelligence; yet because she had different political beliefs to him, he had spoken to her quite patronisingly and abruptly.

"Then why did you speak to me like that?"

Mr Carson thought carefully about his next response.

"The fact that you have such different ideas to me … the fact that you agree with lots of the new socialist ideas … well it scares me … it has worried me for quite some time … and then when I heard you were attending the meeting …"

"Scares you?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"Yes … we have so much in common … we normally agree on matters of importance … I couldn't understand how we could disagree so clearly when it came to politics …"

"Mr Carson … friends do not have to share all of the same beliefs …" she replied sympathetically.

"That's what Daisy said …" he smiled, as did Mrs Hughes.

"Well Daisy was right … Mr Carson, I have the utmost respect for you … and I always will … even if some of your ideas are different to mine … life would be very dull if we agreed on everything …" she said warmly.

"So you won't get tired of my old-fashioned ideas and cut me loose?" he asked.

He tried to sound light-hearted but Mrs Hughes could clearly see the worry in his eyes. She now understood his overreaction earlier; somewhere deep inside him, he had worried whether their friendship could survive such differing viewpoints. She could not have cared more for her friend than in that moment.

"I will never get tired of you Mr Carson … I may want to kill you with my own bare hands at times … but you will always be my dearest friend …" she reassured.

She then panicked as she realised she had perhaps spoken too fondly. She gripped the bench with her hands at each side and stared down at her toes.

"You will always be my dearest friend too Mrs Hughes," he replied, whilst also looking at his toes.

They both smiled happily to themselves.

######

"Daisy … can we have a word? In my pantry please … immediately," Mr Carson bellowed across the kitchen.

Daisy had her back to Mr Carson but she jumped in surprise, dreading what was to come; had they worked out that the notes were from her?

She walked hesitantly into the pantry, to be met by both Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. Daisy thought that she might pass out with nerves.

"Daisy … you do know that it is very wrong to write notes impersonating someone else …" Mr Carson began.

Daisy gulped; they did know. She decided that she needed to plead her case,

"But Mr Carson … I only wanted you and Mrs Hughes to be friends again … I don't like it when you fight … and I knew you would be too stubborn to apologise … and well you _are_ grumpy sometimes …" she blustered.

Mrs Hughes snorted with laughter. Mr Carson raised his eyebrows at the Housekeeper. She continued to chuckle as she looked at him knowingly. He had promised her that he would be kind to Daisy; both the Housekeeper and Butler knew that her heart was in the right place. He continued.

"What I was about to say Daisy … is that although you should not have written those notes … I am very grateful that you did … thank you …" he said sincerely.

Daisy looked stunned as she smiled radiantly at Mr Carson.

"Yes thank you Daisy … we know that you meant well and you will be glad to know that we are friends again," Mrs Hughes added kindly, with a wink.

Daisy smiled happily, clasping her hands together.

"I am that pleased … I knew you would make up … you always do ... well I better be getting back to the kitchen or Mrs Patmore will wonder where I am …" she uttered, smiling at the Housekeeper and Butler as she turned to leave the room.

"Oh Daisy … Mr Carson has one last thing say … don't you Mr Carson?" Mrs Hughes said mischievously, biting her lip.

The Butler rolled his eyes but could not help but smile; he knew what she was referring to. She had made him pledge to say this to Daisy. Mrs Hughes glared at him; motioning for him to get on with it.

"Daisy … I promise to smile more often, rather than frowning, and not to be quite as grouchy …" he said, his cheeks blushing pink.

Daisy and Mrs Hughes burst into giggles, delighted with this proclamation. Mr Carson shook his head but smiled as well.

As all three continued to laugh, Daisy took a moment to observe her superiors. She looked at Mrs Hughes whose eyes were sparkling, her face lit up as she looked at the Butler; and Mr Carson, an amused and lovely smile on his face as he gazed fondly at Mrs Hughes. Yes she thought, I may still get my happy ending.

**_A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews. They make such a difference and so please do continue to let me know your thoughts x _**


	8. Lord Grantham

**_A/N: _****_I am guessing that the scene they filmed around a radio for Series 5 was George V's broadcast to the nation on 23_****_rd April _****_1924; the first radio broadcast by a British monarch. _****_It was a major event at the time with 10 million people crowded around radios listening to the King. _****_I may well be wrong but that is what I am going with for this chapter! _****_Hope you enjoy x_**

Chapter 8

"I don't know what all the fuss is about …" Mrs Hughes sighed, as she and Mr Carson walked hastily upstairs to lead the line-up for the guest's arrival.

"Mrs Hughes, it is St George's Day, the national day of England, and our King is going to broadcast live to the nation … I would say that warrants a great deal of fuss …" Mr Carson said proudly.

They had reached the front of the House, and joined the line of servants, side by side as always. The cars were on their way. The Grantham's too stood to the left of the door to welcome the guests; they were expecting many close friends, as well as the Dowager and Mrs Crawley. There was a respectful hush over those gathered.

Mrs Hughes leaned a little to her right and whispered to the Butler,

"Mr Carson … it may well have escaped your notice … but I am Scottish not English … the accent gives it away to most people," she said dryly, still looking straight ahead, her face betraying no sign of her jest.

Mr Carson gave a small snort of laughter, and when Lord Grantham turned to stare, the Butler covered the noise with a well-timed cough; his posture as formal and serious as ever.

Mrs Hughes allowed a little smile to tweak at her lips.

######

"All set Mr Carson? I think it is time we went up," Mrs Hughes said, as she entered his pantry.

"Yes … all set Mrs Hughes … drinks and canapés are set out in the Library for the guests after the broadcast …" he said happily, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically.

"You really are quite excited aren't you?" she laughed warmly; looking at her friend.

"I am … it's a momentous day Mrs Hughes … do you know that businesses and shops have closed all around the country … they even plan to stop the traffic on Oxford Street so the crowds can listen to the King on loud speakers … millions will listen as our monarch opens the Empire Exhibition … who would have thought we would ever hear our most gracious King on the radio …" Mr Carson said merrily, shaking his head in wonder.

Mrs Hughes thought that all of the pomp and ceremony involved with this event was very silly; the amount of preparation and work that had gone into the celebration today, which amounted to a two minute speech, seemed ridiculous. However, as she gazed at Mr Carson, she could not help but feel a little of his joy; his delight was infectious.

"Well I am very glad that you get to hear it Mr Carson … I would have hated for you to miss it," she said sincerely.

"Oh yes … Lord Grantham was very kind to invite all of the servants to attend ... don't you think?" he smiled happily.

What Mrs Hughes actually thought was that she could make much better use of her time, wading through the mountain of paperwork on her desk, rather than listening to some privileged old King; however she did not have the heart to dampen Mr Carson's spirits. She had not seen him this animated since he suggested the staff should visit the Science Museum or the Crystal Palace at Sydenham Hill.

"I do indeed Mr Carson … let's go up and join the others," she smiled.

######

The wireless had been set up on a small table at one end of the Great Hall; the Grantham's and the guests were seated in rows facing this. The staff stood behind the guests; Mrs Hughes, Mr Carson and Mrs Patmore at the front, with Mr Bates and Anna alongside. They were waiting for the broadcast to begin; all that could be heard at present was a low, crackling noise. Lord Grantham stood beside the table, as master of ceremonies for this significant event.

"Do you like the decorations Mrs Hughes?" Mrs Patmore chuckled.

There was bunting made from St George's flags all around the Great Hall to celebrate England's national day.

Mrs Hughes smiled and whispered,

"Oh yes marvellous … it's wonderful to be surrounded by a symbol of England's past … a time before you allowed us Scots to join you … anyway … I have hidden a St Andrew's flag behind one of the plant pots as my own little Scottish rebellion …" she joked.

Both Mrs Patmore and Mr Carson chuckled as they stood; as Mrs Hughes smiled cheekily. It suddenly dawned on Mr Carson that she might actually be telling the truth. He was about to ask her but then thought better of it; it was best not to know.

"Well do remember that George V is the _British _monarch Mrs Hughes … and so this broadcast is as much for you as it is for us … therefore you should enjoy this day even if it is a celebration of the patron saint of England," Mr Carson smiled.

"Yes Mr Carson … and I will remind you of that in November when I make all of you congregate in the Great Hall for St Andrew's Day, to listen to the bagpipes and eat haggis!" she replied dryly.

"Ooh as long as Mr Carson doesn't wear a kilt … I couldn't cope with his knobbly knees!" Mrs Patmore teased.

Mr Carson's jaw dropped open at the mention of his knees; they certainly weren't knobbly and he certainly would never be wearing a kilt. He was about to reply when the radio crackled into action, the first voice that could be heard was that of Edward, Prince of Wales, who then introduced his father King George V.

The Family, guests and servants listened reverently to this historic transmission; even Mrs Hughes, on hearing the rousing words, felt moved to be part of this occasion. She looked at Mr Carson out of the corner of her eye and noticed that his lip was trembling. She could see that the Butler was greatly affected and it touched her heart to see him so moved. She knew that tradition, the established order and the monarchy were cornerstones of his beliefs and so she fully understood why this was so important to him.

Mr Carson was looking straight ahead and as Mrs Hughes followed his gaze; she watched him share an almost imperceptible nod with Lord Grantham. His Lordship also looked very gratified by the speech, as he returned the Butler's nod; a moment of respect and understanding between the pair. Mrs Hughes smiled; thinking that in another life, the Butler and the Lord would have been great friends.

The speech continued, as the audience remained captivated by the King's words; even Mrs Patmore was smiling pleasantly. Mrs Hughes stole another glance at the Butler; he stood motionless, gazing forward as he absorbed this moment. The Housekeeper swallowed hard to hide her emotion as she noticed that Mr Carson's eyes were filled with tears. She wanted to reach out to him; to let him know that she was there for him. Therefore, without another thought; she gently moved her hand a little closer to his hand at her side. The staff were standing so closely together that she knew this small movement would not be seen by those around them. She was almost touching Mr Carson's side anyway, and she was just as near to Mrs Patmore on her other side.

Mrs Hughes did not take his hand fully in hers, however she curled a finger around his large thumb; hoping this delicate touch would be enough to support her friend. Mr Carson's breath hitched lightly as he felt her warm touch and, with just as much subtlety as she had shown, curled his thumb more tightly around her little finger. He gained enormous strength from Mrs Hughes's friendship and as they stood with fingers intertwined at their side, it made this moving occasion even more special.

Neither realised that Lord Grantham chose that moment to look to his esteemed Butler once again. Lord Grantham's eyes widened; he knew that he could very well be wrong but it almost looked like Mr Carson was holding Mrs Hughes's hand. He was surprised but also very pleased; Mr Carson looked overcome with emotion and he knew from his wife and his daughters that Mrs Hughes was a great support to the Butler; Cora had once said that the Housekeeper steadied him. Lord Grantham smiled gently; thinking that his devoted Butler, who had taken care of the Grantham's for decades, deserved to have a good friend by his side. He was also sure that was all Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were; good friends.

######

The last guests were in the Library, continuing to enjoy the celebrations. Most had now departed but a few stragglers remained. Lord and Lady Grantham, as well as Mr Branson and Lady Mary, remained also. Mr Carson had left Mr Barrow in charge for a few minutes, so that he could begin to put in place his idea.

Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore sat downstairs in the Housekeeper's sitting-room, enjoying a chat about this and that. The celebrations had gone well, which delighted both; their hard work and preparations had been rewarded. They were now enjoying their first sit down of the day.

Lord Grantham stood in the Library, politely listening to Lord Belsham witter on about his recent trip to America; as his wife also stood by his side nodding civilly. Both Cora and Robert were facing the open-door to the Great Hall and could see through to the hallway outside. Lord Grantham was particularly distracted as he watched the Footmen stride back and forth; bringing a succession of drinks for the remaining guests. He then saw a curious sight; Mr Carson carrying a plant pot past the door. He looked at his wife; both a little confused.

"Was that heather in that plant pot?" Cora whispered to her husband.

"It certainly looked like it," Robert replied, quite flummoxed.

######

Mr Carson was very pleased with himself, as he busily set up the small table in his pantry. He wanted to do something special for Mrs Hughes, to repay her kindness for everything she did for him; to thank her for her constant support and particularly for her care today. He often wondered how he would ever cope without his best friend at his side and he hoped with all of his heart that he would never have to find out. He noticed some dust on the front of his jacket, and swept it off with a smile; it had been a long time since he had been up in the attics.

He planned to invite her for their usual sherry and then offer her this little surprise.

He turned as he heard a knock on his door; and made sure to stand in front of the table to hide it from view.

"Lord Grantham … how may I help? I hope everything is in order upstairs?" he asked, quite stunned and hoping some disaster was not afoot; what would His Lordship think finding him downstairs, having left Mr Barrow in charge upstairs?

"Oh everything is fine Carson … more than fine in fact … I wanted to thank you for organising such a marvellous occasion today … I know it meant as much to you as it did to me," Lord Grantham said kindly.

"It was my pleasure Milord but it is Mrs Hughes who deserves most of the credit," he smiled devotedly.

Lord Grantham returned his smile.

"Of course and I shall make sure to thank Mrs Hughes as well … Carson …" Lord Grantham began, looking inquisitively at the Butler.

"Yes?" he answered.

"I realise that it is none of my business but do I see some tartan cloth behind you? And a St Andrew's flag? And I am sure I saw you carrying a pot of glorious purple heather earlier?" he said, a mischievous smile on his face.

His Lordship was not at all sure what the Butler was planning but he had a very good idea that whatever it was, it was in honour of a certain Scottish Housekeeper.

"Umm yes Milord … yes it is and … yes you did …" Mr Carson stumbled.

"Well?" Lord Grantham asked.

Mr Carson coughed to clear his throat; this did not seem like such a good idea any more.

"Umm … it may seem a little foolish Milord but you see … Mrs Hughes was feeling a little left out earlier … the focus being on the English national day and all … and she has worked so hard to prepare for today's celebrations … and ... well ... I thought she deserved a little treat," he finished, standing most seriously before His Lordship.

"So you thought you would have an early St Andrew's day celebration?" Lord Grantham stated happily.

"Yes … exactly … but this was only to take place at the end of the day Milord … it will not effect our work at all," Mr Carson quickly explained.

"Carson, please do not worry about that … no-one on earth works harder than you both … I think it is a wonderful idea … and I have no doubt Mrs Hughes deserves it," he smiled, thinking that Mr Carson was a wily one; quite the romantic in fact.

Lord Grantham smiled again, thinking of the Butler and Housekeeper touching hands earlier in the day. His Lordship then rebuked himself; he knew that Carson was the most proper man and he would never treat Mrs Hughes with anything other than respect. They were obviously simply friends although His Lordship wondered if there wasn't a seed of something more between the colleagues.

"She does Milord," Carson said sweetly.

"Right then … I will leave you to it … I hope you have a good evening Carson," Lord Grantham said, as he bid his goodnight and walked out of the Butler's pantry.

Mr Carson winced as His Lordship left the room; feeling very embarrassed that Lord Grantham had stumbled upon his plan. However, he then remembered why he was doing this and a broad grin appeared once again as he set to work.

######

He was expecting Mrs Hughes at any minute, when he heard another knock on his door. Surely that wasn't her, he thought; she never knocked. Mr Barrow walked into the room, looking as surly as ever.

"Lord Grantham asked me to give you this … he said it was a thank you gift from him," Thomas said gruffly, and then walked back out of the room.

The nonchalant attitude of the Under-Butler meant that he did not even notice anything different about the pantry.

Mr Carson grinned from ear to ear as he looked at the bottle of the finest Scottish whisky in his hands.

######

"Have you still the energy for a sherry Mr Carson?" Mrs Hughes said as she walked into his pantry.

She paused abruptly, her eyes wide in amazement, as she took in the sight before her. She clasped her hands to her mouth as she absorbed every last detail; a luminous smile on her face. There was a tartan throw draped across the two chairs and some St Andrew's flags hanging from the picture frames on the wall. On the small table there was a silver tray with two glass tumblers and a bottle of whisky, some shortbread biscuits and a sprig of Scottish heather.

Mr Carson beamed with pride as he watched the joy on Mrs Hughes's face. She was shaking her head in disbelief at this wonderful surprise.

"You even found Gaelic music … oh Mr Carson … I don't know what to say …" she muttered, as the gramophone played softly in the corner of the room.

"You do not have to say a thing … simply enjoy an evening of Scottish celebration … I thought that we could move St Andrew's day a little forward this year …" he smiled.

"Mr Carson, thank you … thank you so much … this is wonderful … truly wonderful … but however did you manage it? Where did you find all of these things?" she laughed lightly, the man had even found St Andrews flags.

"I remembered that many moons ago the Dowager had a _cèilidh _here at the House and I wondered if there would be some remnants left in the attic … and sure enough …" he said, pointing around the room.

Mrs Hughes gazed at the Butler warmly; thinking that he was the sweetest man. Mr Carson became a little ruffled under such a heartfelt gaze; his cheeks flushing pink as he hoped the Housekeeper hadn't noticed. Mrs Hughes chuckled as she watched him become flustered.

"I could not find any haggis at such short notice I am afraid …" he joked.

She giggled.

"Thank goodness for that … I can't stand the stuff … and I presume you'll change into your kilt later so that I can see those knobbly knees …" she joshed in return.

"Of course …" he smirked, much to Mrs Hughes's delight.

"Shall we?" Mr Carson added, signaling for Mrs Hughes to take a seat.

"I would love to …" she smiled, as she took her seat on the tartan throw, happily accepting a very large glass of whisky.

Mr Carson sat down on the chair beside her.

"Thank you so much Mr Carson … this means so much to me," she said, unable to stop her voice cracking a little. She was simply overcome.

"Thank _you_ Mrs Hughes … thank you for everything … _slàinte!" _he cheered, as he raised his glass_._

_"__Do dheagh shlàinte!" _she replied, smiling radiantly as she clinked his glass with her own.


	9. Timothy Carson

**_A/N: Thank you for your continued support. This is the most overt observation so far- the first time someone has actually challenged either Charles or Elsie about their feelings (I thought we needed an 'outsider' for this). But will the Butler and Housekeeper still remain oblivious? _**

**_I have 7 chapters to go after this. Hope you enjoy x_**

Chapter 9

"What you need is a good woman Charles," Timothy said, as he sipped his tea.

"Timothy for heaven's sake … that is always the first thing you say to me whenever we meet …"

"Because its true … you have been single far too long Charles … is there really no-one?" he asked.

Charles sighed, shaking his head. He loved his brother, he really did, but his impertinent questioning infuriated the Butler. They had always been close, despite only seeing each other once or twice a year. However, Timothy, who had been happily married for over thirty years, could never fully understand the life Charles had chosen.

"No there is not. As you well know, a Butler has to be single and focused on his job … there is no room for romance …" Charles explained, repeating the words he had so often said to Timothy.

This was the first time Timothy has visited Downton; he lived in Oxford and so Charles always visited him and his family at their home during the Season. However, Timothy had some business in Ripon and so he had arranged to meet up with his brother.

"But surely you must work with some women who are your age? What about the Housekeeper? Mrs Hughes isn't it? You have mentioned her a few times in your letters. Or is she an eighty year old harridan straight out of a Jane Austen novel?" he joked.

Charles stalled at that. He did not wish his brother to think ill of Mrs Hughes but he certainly could not tell his brother the truth or Timothy would certainly get the wrong idea. The Butler suddenly felt very hot and bothered, realising that he had just admitted to himself that he regarded Mrs Hughes as an attractive woman. Oh my word, he flustered, it is highly inappropriate for me to think of my colleague in such a way.

Timothy was still waiting for an answer and Charles decided that it would easier if his brother did think that the Housekeeper was an elderly old dear. He therefore answered vaguely so as not to raise suspicions.

"She is not quite that old …"

"But she is old … or what a pity …" Timothy sighed.

Timothy smiled at Charles; he would love nothing more than to see his brother happily married and settled. However, he knew that this was for Charles to decide and so he would not push the matter any further.

"As long as you are happy?" he smiled.

"I am …" Charles responded confidently and Timothy believed him, despite not truly understanding how his brother could be happy without a wife to support him. However, Timothy respected the pride Charles had for his work and he knew that his brother was honoured to serve the Grantham family.

The brothers smiled warmly at each other.

######

"So I will see you in the pub at seven?" Timothy said, as he stood at the servant's door.

"Yes I'll be there …" the Butler replied happily.

Suddenly both brothers heard fast-approaching footsteps.

"Mr Carson … did you order my maids to clean the Library? Have you suddenly replaced me without my knowledge?" she hollered, as she marched up to the Butler.

Only when Mr Carson turned around to face her, was she able to see that he was not alone.

"Oh I am very sorry … I didn't realise you had company …" Mrs Hughes said, as she took a deep breath and smiled apologetically at the other man.

"So I see …" he said dryly.

Mrs Hughes gave the Butler a reproachful look as she smiled politely at Mr Carson's visitor. Timothy gazed at her, his eyes wide-open as he looked at her and then back to his brother and then back to her again. A delirious and knowing smile lit up his face.

The Butler swallowed hard and took a long, deep breath.

"Mrs Hughes this is my brother Timothy Carson … and Timothy, this is Mrs Hughes, our Housekeeper …" he mumbled, hoping irrationally that Timothy might not catch the word 'Housekeeper'. Timothy caught Charles's gaze; the way he was grinning made Charles nervous.

"Oh … Mr Carson … it is a pleasure to meet you …" she said.

Mrs Hughes smiled sweetly at Timothy. The Butler looked at her with raised eyebrows, thinking that there was no danger of him getting a smile like that from her this afternoon; she had been about to tear his head off as she stormed down the corridor just seconds earlier.

"The pleasure is all mine Mrs Hughes …" Timothy smiled, and then pointedly looked at his brother, thinking that he now understood why Charles was so happy in his work.

Charles coughed and spluttered to hide his embarrassment. Mrs Hughes narrowed her eyes as she looked at the Butler, wondering why on earth he was in such a flap.

"And by all means continue to shout at my brother Mrs Hughes … do not mind me … I am sure he deserved it … whatever the reason …" Timothy teased.

Even Mrs Hughes looked a little embarrassed by that. She had no wish to argue in front of Mr Carson's brother. She laughed lightly.

"Oh no … I will leave you both in peace … there will be plenty of time to shout at your brother this afternoon …" she joked, and Timothy chuckled at her spark.

She then turned back to the Butler, smiling at him with a cheeky grin. Her anger had dissipated. He returned her smile with an amused shake of the head as Timothy looked on in delight. He had never seen Charles gaze at a woman like that, not ever.

"Well if you are sure ... I know only too well how grumpy Charles can be … although he has a heart of gold really …" Timothy whispered, pretending that Charles could not hear him.

Charles rolled his eyes at his brother.

"He has indeed … although he tries his best to hide it …" Mrs Hughes replied sweetly; the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. It was her turn to become flustered; why on earth did I say that? she wondered. Timothy smiled happily, as Charles also looked pleased.

"You are absolutely right Mrs Hughes … my brother does like to hide things …" he trilled happily.

Charles started to cough again, he felt like he was hyper-ventilating; he knew that his brother would have hours of fun with this.

"Oh really … well … goodbye Mr Carson …" she said to Timothy, as she nodded and walked back down the corridor.

"Well … well … well …" Timothy exclaimed with glee.

######

"So you shouted at Mr Carson in front of his brother?" Mrs Patmore asked with an amused grin.

Mrs Hughes stood in the kitchen, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"I am afraid so … what on earth must he think of me?" the Housekeeper fretted.

"I am sure he thought nothing of it," the Cook reassured.

"Or perhaps he thought me obnoxious and rude …" she worried. Oh she really did not want Mr Carson's brother to think poorly of her; she was not sure why it bothered her so much but it did.

"Get away … anyway ... he will know how fondly his brother thinks of you …" she reasoned.

"Hardly Mrs Patmore … can you imagine Mr Carson telling his brother anything about me at all? Never mind anything nice …" she smiled wearily.

"Yes I can actually …" the Cook answered honestly.

"Well I can't … oh well … I can't turn back the clock now and so I'll just have to hope he didn't think me too dreadful …"

"Does he look like Mr Carson?" the Cook asked.

"Oh yes … like peas in a pod they are …" Mrs Hughes smiled.

"You thought he was handsome then?" Mrs Patmore teased.

Mrs Hughes gasped and shook her head at the sassy Cook, as Mrs Patmore chuckled cheerfully at her own cheek.

######

Timothy and Charles were sitting with their pints at the table, waiting for their stew to be served. Charles had arrived at the Grantham Arms about ten minutes before and he was amazed that Timothy had waited this long to start his teasing.

"So, my brother … Mrs Hughes is not quite the eighty year old dear now is she? Far, far from it in fact …" he smiled, as he sipped his beer.

"I knew you would be like this Timothy … that's why I didn't want you to know the truth," Charles said adamantly.

"Ahh … so you admit that she is quite lovely then?" Timothy teased, enjoying watching his brother getting tied up in knots over this.

"Mrs Hughes is lovely yes, and she is intelligent, capable and kind," Charles finished steadily, pleased that he managed to reply truthfully without saying anything improper about his friend, and without appearing flustered.

"Charles … she is a beauty! Good god! I know you don't get out and about very much but in any circle Mrs Hughes is an attractive woman …" Timothy exclaimed.

"Timothy … my goodness … show some respect … Mrs Hughes is an intelligent, accomplished woman who does not deserve to be described in such a way …" Charles responded, as he glared at his brother, his face turning red with fury and embarrassment.

Charles had taken his half-day off so that he could have dinner and a few drinks with his brother. However, he was now regretting meeting up at all.

"Oh I am sorry Charles, I mean no disrespect at all. I do not doubt Mrs Hughes's intelligence and capability … you would never like a woman who was not your intellectual equal for one thing ... and she obviously has your measure … and a wonderful sense of humour … but that does not take away from the fact that she is a pretty woman with a very nice figure … don't tell me that you hadn't noticed?" Timothy joshed.

Charles was becoming more and more uncomfortable with this conversation. Timothy was the only person who would ever dare speak to him in this manner. Charles felt very disloyal to be speaking about Mrs Hughes in this way. He did not want to insult his friend by thinking about her in such a superficial way; to think about her looks or her figure or any other part of her attractiveness was ill-mannered at best.

Charles was not blind, Mrs Hughes was a beautiful woman, but he did not allow himself to think about her in that way. Yet, he could see the way the shopkeeper's eyes twinkled whenever she visited them in the Village or when she greeted local merchants at the Abbey. He had observed the way the more-mature men fussed around her at Church. However, he was at pains not to behave like that around any woman, particularly Mrs Hughes. Even in his Music Hall days, Charles had not joined in with the bawdy talk about women and relationships; he was a private man and he believed women deserved greater respect.

"Timothy please … I do not look at Mrs Hughes in that way … she is my colleague …" he replied firmly.

"But Charles … she is perfect for you … she was made for you in fact …" Timothy argued; he did not want his brother to miss out on this most wonderful chance of happiness.

"We are colleagues …" Charles repeated, losing his patience.

"Charles Carson, do not tell me that you are just colleagues … you obviously like the woman … that much is clear … my goodness … even if I had not observed the way you looked at her this afternoon … I would have known clearly from your strident defence of her this evening that your feelings run deep …"

"Well yes … of course I like her … and of course I will defend her honour … she is my closest colleague and friend … my best friend in fact … but nothing else Timothy … so please stop this … it is discourteous to Mrs Hughes and myself …"

Charles glared at Timothy. The Butler felt very agitated, a bundle of nerves, as this conversation unsettled him more and more.

"Alright … alright … I'll stop … if you say you are only friends then I'll have to believe you … I think she is lovely that is all," Timothy said, raising his hands in surrender.

"Good … thank goodness for that … now please can we just enjoy our dinner …" Charles sighed.

The Butler could not remember the last time he had felt so unbalanced. It made him very anxious to discuss Mrs Hughes. He realised that he was not used to having to explain or justify their friendship; those at the House accepted that he and the Housekeeper were trusted colleagues without any question. Therefore, he did not understand why some people, including his brother, found it very difficult to believe that a woman and a man could be simply friends.

######

Mrs Hughes heard the latch on the servant's door open and so she knew that Mr Carson was returning from his meal with his brother. She walked out of her sitting-room to greet him; most of the lights were turned down for the night and so a subdued glow filtered along the hallway. All of the other staff were in bed.

"Good evening Mr Carson … did you have a good night?" she asked cheerfully.

"Yes thank you Mrs Hughes …" he said, trying his best to sound happy. The truth was that he felt exhausted. The Housekeeper picked up on this immediately.

"Is everything alright Mr Carson?" she asked, concerned for her friend.

Mrs Hughes always seemed to know immediately when he was lying. He decided honesty was the best policy.

"Yes fine Mrs Hughes … family just know how to get under your skin sometimes don't they? No matter how much we care for them," he smiled wearily.

Mrs Hughes looked at him with such care; it almost broke his heart.

"Indeed … I love my sister very much … but no-one else can set my teeth on edge like she can … but I am sure your brother did not mean to upset you … it is clear how fond he is of you …" she reassured softly.

"Yes of course … you are quite right, he didn't mean to upset me at all … he only wants what's best for me," Charles smiled.

They stood for a few minutes in silence. Mrs Hughes was not sure how much more to ask; she did not want to push the Butler. She knew how much he valued his privacy. She decided to try a spot of humour to lighten the mood.

"He must think me an absolute horror … shouting at you like that in the corridor," she said, playfully mocking herself.

Mr Carson laughed happily.

"He thinks you are absolutely lovely Mrs Hughes," he replied honestly.

The Housekeeper felt her cheeks flush pink; that was not the response she was expecting.

_So do I_, Charles thought to himself, as he gazed fondly at his best friend.

They both shared an earnest glance; it was suddenly very warm in the corridor.

"Well, he doesn't know me well enough yet … he'll soon realise what a dragon I am!" she replied, using her self-deprecating humour to ease the tension.

"Yes … I did tell him that," Mr Carson said dryly.

They both laughed again, feeling relieved; once they were teasing, things were back to normal.

######

It was the next day and Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson were standing in his pantry, the Butler was about to go upstairs to serve luncheon. She had just updated him on the guests expected over the next week. She was about to leave his room when she spotted his tie was a little askew. Without thinking, she reached up to straighten it. Mr Carson did not even flicker; he was used to Mrs Hughes fussing over him.

Unfortunately at that moment, Timothy walked into the room. He looked at the Housekeeper on tiptoes, leaning closely to Charles's chest. She had not heard him enter, although Charles had.

"There you go Mr Carson … all shipshape … now take things easy upstairs … and let Thomas stay up there if the luncheon drags on … you need to rest after the last few days … we don't want you getting ill again …" she smiled, as she stepped backwards.

Despite his brother standing there, the Butler could not help but grin at Mrs Hughes. She always looked after him. Timothy coughed to alert her to his presence. She turned on the spot.

"Oh Mr Carson … I did not see you there …" Mrs Hughes said, taken by surprise.

"I have only just arrived Mrs Hughes …" he smiled kindly.

"Well … at least I wasn't shouting at your brother this time …" she joked.

Timothy laughed, as Charles stood nervously.

"It was lovely to meet you Mrs Hughes … and I look forward to seeing you again someday …" Timothy said, and he meant it.

"Yes ... it was lovely to meet you too Mr Carson … have a safe journey home …" she replied, smiling as she left the room.

Timothy and Charles both watched her leave and then turned to face one another. Charles waited for the inevitable teasing to begin, however Timothy had no wish to further josh his brother. He knew that he had gone too far the previous evening and he knew how stubborn his younger brother could be; Charles would move at his own pace and he would not be pushed into anything until he was ready.

Timothy was happy for Charles; whatever the depth of his feelings for Mrs Hughes, Timothy was thankful that Charles had such a supporter, confidante and friend at his side. He was also thrilled that Charles had found such a bright and fiery woman; it was exactly what he needed to keep him in check.

"I apologise for my forwardness last night Charles … I will not say another thing other than I am very pleased that you have such a dear friend at your side … I truly am," he smiled sincerely, shaking his brother's hand.

Charles gulped back his emotion and shook Timothy's hand generously.

"Thank you Timothy … and give my love to Ruth and the girls," Charles smiled.

Timothy nodded before saying his goodbyes.

Charles stood alone in his pantry thinking that he and his brother finally agreed about something; Mrs Hughes truly was a dear friend.


	10. Tom Branson

Chapter 10

"Where are you off to then Mrs Hughes?" Mr Carson asked warmly, as he stood at the door to her sitting room. She was standing in her coat and hat.

"I am going out with Mr Branson for the afternoon …" she replied, as she fixed her hat pin.

"Where are you really going?" he laughed, presuming she was joking with him.

Mrs Hughes looked at the Butler perplexed.

"I am going to visit Morbridge Lodge with Mr Branson," she replied seriously.

"Why would you be going to Morbridge Lodge?" Mr Carson asked, his tone suggesting that Mrs Hughes was visiting some den of iniquity rather than the potential new home of Tom Branson.

"Mr Carson … what is the matter with you? Mr Branson asked if I would go and take a look at the place with him … he wants a woman's eye I suppose … and I promised that I would go with him," Mrs Hughes explained.

The Lodge was on the Estate but would provide some privacy for Mr Branson and his daughter. A Mrs Fortescue-Jones currently resided there. She had leased the palatial Lodge from the Grantham's for the last twenty years but having lost her husband a year ago; she now felt it was time to move back to London. Therefore, it was to become available and Tom Branson hoped it might be perfect for him and Sybbie.

"But you can't spend the afternoon on your own in a House with Mr Branson? It is highly improper …" he gasped.

Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrows in amazement.

"How on earth is it improper?" she asked.

"It is improper for a man and a woman to be alone in a House together without a chaperone …" he explained.

Mrs Hughes spluttered with laughter; surely he was not serious?

"Mr Carson, are you mad? The man is thirty years my junior … he would be quite rightly horrified at your suggestion … we don't need a chaperone! Goodness me, the very thought! And anyway … you and I spend time alone together …"

Mr Carson stumbled at that.

"That is very different …" he stated.

"How exactly? If anything … people are more likely to think there is something improper between you and I …" she said rationally.

She grimaced inwardly at how that sounded; this discussion had taken a very perilous path. She did not think for one second that anyone thought she and Mr Carson being alone together was improper, however his silly notions about Mr Branson has pushed her to make her point.

"Mrs Hughes … no-one would ever think there was anything improper between you and I … we are colleagues and it is understandable that we therefore spend time together … you and Mr Branson are not ... " he puffed. He chose not to dwell on the words of his brother the previous week; no one but Timothy would think it at least, he reasoned.

"Oh let's just forget it … I am going with Mr Branson and that is the end of the matter," she said.

They both faced each other, quite breathless after this latest little spat. They both started to calm.

"Would it not be better for him to take a member of the Family? He should be turning to them for support and help now, rather than you … he is no longer a member of the downstairs staff Mrs Hughes …" Mr Carson stated.

"I know that Mr Carson … but I still care for the young man ... and I am glad to help him …" she said kindly.

Mr Carson conceded that; he knew that Mr Branson also thought very highly of Mrs Hughes. The Butler had seen the respect Mr Branson had for her, always coming to her for guidance and advice. He seemed to see Mrs Hughes as a kind of mother-figure.

"Very well Mrs Hughes," Mr Carson responded, order restored.

"Are you ready Mrs Hughes?" Tom smiled, as he entered her sitting-room.

"I am Mr Branson," she replied, collecting her handbag.

The younger man noticed the suppressed frown on the Butler's face; he could see that Mr Carson was trying very hard to look welcoming and respectful.

"Don't worry Mr Carson … I will take good care of her …" Tom teased, as Mrs Hughes chuckled.

"Oh and I hope you don't mind Mrs Hughes but I thought we would take the Bentley … it's a nice day and all …" the young man cheered.

Mrs Hughes grinned excitedly; she had never been in a convertible before. She also knew exactly why Mr Branson had chosen this car; it was a two-seater and so they would be on equal terms as they sat in the car. Another car would have prompted a disagreement; with Mrs Hughes insisting that she sit up front with him, as all servants should, and Mr Branson pleading with her to sit in the back, wanting to give her the respect she deserved. This way, they would travel in a more luxurious car and would also have nothing to discuss.

"That will be wonderful Mr Branson … give me a second … I just might add another hatpin," she laughed, thinking that she did not want to lose her hat!

Mr Carson could not help but smile at that, as he watched Mrs Hughes affectionately. Tom Branson caught that look; it did not surprise him, he had observed it many, many times before.

"Right then … let's be off!" she said.

######

"How was your afternoon?" Mr Carson asked at dinner.

"Very enjoyable actually … and don't worry … Mr Branson didn't attempt to seduce me …" she whispered, with heavy irony.

Mr Carson looked at her in astonishment: what a thing to say! However, he decided that two could play at that game.

"You almost sound disappointed Mrs Hughes …" he mouthed quietly, biting back a chuckle.

"Well … it is true that he would be difficult to resist …" she breathed blissfully, outplaying Mr Carson, as he dropped his fork to his plate.

As the Butler stumbled to pick up his fork, Mrs Hughes laughed warmly.

"That Mrs Fortescue-Jones is a character …" she added; wondering why many rich people were so eccentric.

Mr Carson laughed lightly.

"She hasn't moved out yet?" he asked.

"No … next week,"

"And is Mr Branson decided then? He plans to take the Lodge for him and Sybil?"

"Yes he does … I liked it very much and so that seemed to finalise his thoughts … he needs to make some choices regarding the lounge and the dining room however … they may need some alterations … he could probably do with some extra advice on that matter actually …" Mrs Hughes explained.

"Could he now?" Mr Carson asked, looking at her suspiciously; what was she up to?

Mrs Hughes decided this moment was as good as any; at least they were surrounded by staff and so Mr Carson could not make a scene.

"Yes … and I may have suggested that you would be happy to help …" she said, wrinkling her nose in anticipation of his response.

"Me?" he exclaimed.

Just say it quickly, Mrs Hughes told herself.

"Yes … you and I are expected at the Lodge, tomorrow at one ... I said we would meet Mr Branson there …" she replied, not catching his eye.

Mr Carson let out one of his most exasperated sighs.

######

"Mrs Hughes it is lovely to see you again … do come in … Mr Branson is through in the kitchen …" Mrs Fortescue-Jones greeted, in her upper-class tones.

"Thank you very much … and I have also brought Mr Carson…" Mrs Hughes began, as the Butler stepped into view.

"Oh Mr Carson! How wonderful … I can never have too many handsome men in my home …" she winked, as she sauntered off towards the kitchen.

Mrs Hughes gaped at this comment and the Butler looked suitably mortified.

"Come through … come through …" she shouted from a distance.

Mr Carson made a funny rumbling noise to cover his awkwardness as Mrs Hughes smiled.

"I think you might have an admirer there …" the Housekeeper joked, as she followed Mrs Fortescue-Jones to the kitchen.

######

The four sat around the kitchen table enjoying a cup of tea, having spent the last hour assessing the merits of different rooms. The house certainly needed modernising but there was lots of scope for improvement; and the Butler agreed with Mr Branson that the dining hall and lounge should be switched. They had managed to finalise some ideas. Throughout the afternoon Mrs Fortescue-Jones had been very familiar with Mr Carson. She was obviously a natural flirt and her attentions were well and truly focused on the Butler.

Mr Branson observed this unprecedented scenario with interest noting that, at first, Mr Carson seemed embarrassed. However, if Tom was not mistaken, the Butler appeared to be growing more and more flattered by the attentions of this woman. The aristocratic lady had asked Mr Carson many questions about her planned new home city of London, and then oohed and aahed as Mr Carson shared his vast knowledge of the capital. He was in his element regaling information about the best restaurants to visit, the most magnificent museums and so on.

Mrs Hughes had also seemed greatly entertained with the other woman's boldness at first; and the Housekeeper and Mr Branson had shared many humorous glances. However, as Mrs Fortescue-Jones pulled her chair even closer to the Butler, continuing to gaze admiringly at the man, Mrs Hughes seemed to be becoming more and more displeased. Mr Branson noted that she was hiding her discontentment very well and continuing to behave with the utmost courtesy, but the way she kept exhaling gently and biting her lip was a tell-tale sign that she was feeling fractious. Mr Branson smiled warmly at Mrs Hughes, thinking that his favourite Housekeeper may well be a little jealous. He watched her as she kept turning her tea cup in circles on her saucer and tapping her foot on the stone floor.

Mr Branson did not presume to understand the feelings that the Housekeeper and Butler had for one another, or the delicate dance they seemed to like to play, but he could certainly see that Mrs Hughes was becoming agitated and that Mr Carson was utterly unaware. How can the man not see how much she cares? Mr Branson wondered.

"Oh Mr Carson … you are a fountain of knowledge …" Mrs Fortescue-Jones cooed.

"Well … I do pride myself on keeping up-to-date during the Season … I am happy that my knowledge of London has come in useful at last …" he chuckled, nodding happily when she offered him another cup of tea.

Mrs Hughes fleetingly wondered if she was coming down with something, her chest felt a little tight; it is probably some sort of cold she thought. She looked across to Mr Branson who was smiling kindly at her; she returned his smile.

"Well I am very grateful … I was doubting whether my move to London was the correct decision … however from what you have described, I think London will suit me perfectly … lively, exciting and full of surprises … just like me!" she said playfully.

Mr Carson raised his eyebrows but chuckled all of the same, and Mrs Hughes almost fell off her seat when she watched the other woman give the Butler's knee a brief squeeze as she guffawed with laughter.

"Oh London has its attractions I suppose, but I have always found that there is nothing more beautiful than home," Mr Branson interrupted, smiling meaningfully at Mrs Hughes and giving her a little wink. She smiled gratefully.

"Speaking of home … I think we should be getting back to the House," Mrs Hughes added curtly, thinking that she could not wait to say goodbye to the old floozy sitting across from her.

"Yes, you are right Mrs Hughes … my goodness is that the time? Thank you for the tea Mrs Fortescue-Jones ," Mr Carson offered, as they all stood from the table.

Mrs Hughes and Mr Branson also offered their thanks, as they all walked towards the front door.

"It was my absolute pleasure … and your help had been invaluable Mr Carson … I wonder … would you join me for dinner later this week … I have many more questions about London," she smiled coyly.

Mrs Hughes looked flabbergasted; was she actually asking Mr Carson to join her for romantic dinner? How dare … and then Mrs Hughes stopped herself, realising with confusion that she had no right to think such a thing. Mr Carson was unattached, as was Mrs Fortescue-Jones. Both were entitled to have dinner together if they wanted to. Oh dear me, why does that thought make me feel so nauseous? she wondered, suddenly feeling very unsteady.

Mr Branson glared at the Butler; he knew that Mr Carson was not the most perceptive man when it came to women but he sincerely hoped that he would have the good sense to turn down this invitation immediately. The younger man looked at Mrs Hughes and his heart broke for her; she had gone from looking blisteringly furious to … he tried to think of a suitable word … vulnerable. He watched as the Housekeeper gazed at Mr Carson, holding her breath and waiting for him to respond.

Mr Carson was utterly flummoxed by the question. Oh goodness me, he panicked; how on earth am I going to turn down her invitation without appearing rude? This was a highly inappropriate suggestion at best and he was concerned that this invitation was not entirely innocent. The Butler had thought they were simply having an enjoyable chat about London; nothing else. Yes she had been very complimentary about him but he hadn't thought much about it. Oh dear me, I never could read women, he admitted to himself.

He looked to Mrs Hughes; she normally saved him when he was in trouble. He smiled hopefully at her. She smiled sweetly back at him but there was something in her eyes that made him falter, an uncertainty; surely she doesn't think I am going to say yes? He thought she looked nervous, despite her friendly smile. No don't be ridiculous Charles, Mrs Hughes would not think that, and even if she did, she would not mind whether you said yes or not. She is probably just desperate to get back to the Abbey and hoping that you hurry up, he thought honestly.

"Umm … I am afraid that I won't be able to make dinner Mrs Fortescue-Jones … I have too much to do at the House … however I thank you for the invitation," he replied politely.

Mrs Hughes finally let out the breath she had been holding, as Mr Branson looked to the heaven's and thanked the Lord that the Butler had finally done the right thing. The car journey back to the House did not bear thinking about if he had accepted that invitation.

######

They had arrived back at the House and said their goodbyes to Mr Branson. The young man offered his thanks to the Heads of Staff for their help. He now thought it best to leave them in peace; he knew that they both had a lot to digest and neither had said very much at all in the car ride home.

Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson stood silently in the corridor facing each other; both with weary smiles. There was the sound of chatter from the kitchen but the hallway itself was empty other than them.

Mr Carson felt embarrassed about the invitation to dinner and he knew that he had been flattered by Mrs Fortescue-Jones's attentiveness as he talked about London. He felt quite ridiculous now and ashamed that he had been so selfish, dominating the conversation like that, even if he had been encouraged. He thought regretfully that Mrs Hughes and Mr Branson had hardly spoken all afternoon. He also couldn't strike from his mind the look in the Housekeeper's eyes before he turned down the dinner invitation.

Mrs Hughes felt completely jumbled. She recognised that she had been extremely unsettled this afternoon, very ruffled when the other woman had lavished attention on Mr Carson and utterly beside herself when she feared he was going to accept the dinner invitation. She recognised all of these things but she did not understand them; that was why she currently felt so bewildered. She had felt a shift in herself that made her very anxious. She could see that Mr Carson was also unnerved by her behaviour; however she did not understand it herself and so she certainly could not explain it to him.

"Mrs Hughes … I am sorry about this afternoon … I shouldn't have wittered on like I did ..." Mr Carson said kindly.

"Don't worry, I am used to your wittering Mr Carson …" Mrs Hughes tried to joke, yet the atmosphere was still heavy.

"Yes I know you are … but I was silly to have gone on and on the way I did … I was flattered that someone was so interested I suppose …" he murmured.

"Well she did take quite a shine to you … even inviting you to dinner …" Mrs Hughes tried to joke again, however neither laughed. Mrs Hughes looked down at her toes.

"I would never, ever have gone to dinner with her Mrs Hughes … you do know that?" he said, he needed her to know. None of this made any sense but he needed her to know.

Mrs Hughes looked upwards, to be met with the most sincere eyes.

"I know now," she replied honestly, with a genuine smile.

Mr Carson gave a relieved grin.

"Good … I am glad … oh my ... it has been a funny old afternoon," he sighed.

"Oh yes … absolutely hilarious …" she replied dryly, before they both burst out laughing.

"Is it too early to have a sherry?" he asked with a mischievous smile; he thought they could both do with one.

"I am Scottish Mr Carson … it is never too early …" she joshed, walking to her room.

He followed her happily, chuckling as he walked. He sensed them returning to normal and he felt mightily relieved.

**A/N: ****Thank you for your lovely reviews – do continue to let me know what you think x**


	11. Jimmy Kent

**_A/N: I thought we needed a more light-hearted chapter after the turmoil of the previous chapter – hope you enjoy it- 5 more to go after this x_**

Chapter 11

A loud crash resounded from the courtyard; it sounded like a hundred dishes had clattered to the ground. It was accompanied by what sounded like loud yelps.

"What in heavens …" Mr Carson shouted from his pantry as he raced into the corridor.

Mrs Hughes also came out of her sitting-room; she withheld a chuckle as she watched Mr Carson working himself into a tizzy as he gazed open-mouthed towards the servant's entrance. She wondered with amusement if he thought that staring at the closed door would sort out whatever problem had just occurred.

"It will be something and nothing Mr Carson … lets go outside and find out," she said rationally, as he nodded silently, mouth still hanging open.

'Daft man' she smiled warmly to herself.

The sight that met them when they stepped outside was Jimmy and Deidre, the new kitchen maid, lying on the ground in a crumpled heap, the metal bins that stood in the yards lying on their sides around them, and an old tandem bicycle lying on its side. The two were laughing hysterically until they saw the Heads of Staff. They scrambled to their feet.

"What in the world is going on here?" Mr Carson shouted.

"It is my fault Mr Carson, I am sorry. I found this old bike in the shed and I suggested to Deidre that we should give it a go … but we couldn't quite get the hang of it …" he said quickly, hoping that the Butler might not be too hard on them.

"You were cycling around the yard, causing mayhem, when you both should have been hard at work in the House … how dare you!" Mr Carson bellowed.

Mrs Hughes gulped but stood at his side, with her sternest look on her face to show that she was in support of Mr Carson, even though she did find the matter quite harmless.

"Mr Carson I …" Jimmy began but was cut off.

"Not another word young man … I will speak to you later … and I am sure that Mrs Hughes will also want to speak to you Deidre," Mr Carson stated severely.

Mrs Hughes gave a solemn nod.

"Now get back inside and clean up immediately and I don't want to hear so much as a peep out of either of you for the rest of the day … is that understood?" he stormed.

"Yes Mr Carson," they both replied respectfully, before dashing off inside.

As soon as the door was closed, Mrs Hughes broke out into a wide-grin as she surveyed the scene in front of her. She then looked back to the Butler, who was still wearing a dour expression.

"Oh Mr Carson … it's not all that bad … heavens, if that's the worst they get up to then we have nothing to worry about …" she smiled, walking across to the bicycle to have a closer look.

"Mrs Hughes … frolicking around on a tandem when you should be …" he began but was cut off by an impatient Mrs Hughes; she could not be bothered to see him getting into a flap over something so trivial, and she knew that if she did not prick his bluster he would get ridiculously agitated.

"Shushhh now Mr Carson ... no real harm was done … now ... I have never seen one of these before … where on earth do you think it came from?" she asked, not looking at him as she spoke as she knew that he would be looking at her with one of his flabbergasted expressions and it would only make her laugh if she turned to see him, and that would not help matters at all. It was best just to soldier on as if everything was well and he would eventually calm down as he always did.

The Butler's mouth hung open again at being shushed by Mrs Hughes; he was about to restate his point and affirm that this was indeed a serious matter when he realised there was no point; she would think him very silly and she would probably be right, he admitted. He therefore shook his head in irritation and replied.

"The young ladies used to ride it when they were young … the last time I saw it was when Lady Mary and Lady Edith were teenagers … they used to ride it around the grounds," he explained.

Mrs Hughes turned to face him, happy to hear from the tone of his voice that he had soothed.

"It looks like fun …" she smiled, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"No …" he said firmly, knowing exactly what Mrs Hughes was about to suggest.

"Oh Mr Carson … I have told you before … we are getting on … we can afford to live a little," she grinned excitedly, looking back at the tandem bicycle.

"No …" he mouthed clearly, raising his hands in the air, as he turned to walk back inside.

"Oh, you are an old stuffed shirt sometimes Mr Carson!" she shouted, hands on her hips as she scowled at his retreating figure.

"Still no …" he called, a smile on his lips, as he went inside.

Mrs Hughes chuckled to herself. She was happy that she and Mr Carson were back on teasing terms. The last few weeks had been a little peculiar; with lots of emotions and feelings that she still did not quite understand. They had had several misunderstandings and disagreements, yet that was very usual for them; in fact they both quite enjoyed their little spats. However, there had been a couple of occasions when emotions had been strained to the point of them both seeming a little bewildered and lost. Mrs Hughes had given this much thought and she had concluded that they were both overtired; it had been a particularly busy period, and she thought what they both needed was a little relaxation and fun. Therefore, she was happy to see that things seemed to have returned to normal.

######

Later that day, Mrs Hughes was walking past the Boot Room, when she spotted Jimmy. He had about thirty pairs of shoes lined up on the table. He was covered in black polish and looked quiet out of breath with the sheer energy it had taken to buff and polish so many shoes. She bit back a smile thinking that there was no prizes for guessing who had set him off with this arduous task; it was obviously his punishment for his antics earlier.

"Are you nearly done?" she asked, sympathetically.

"I have nearly done with the shoes … but then I have fifteen pairs of boots to do next," he grumbled, still buffing away.

"Well Mr Carson was right James … you should not have been cycling in the yard when you have so much work to do …" she said, she did feel quite sorry for the lad, lord knows the young staff did not have much chance of fun, but she of course needed to fully support the Butler.

"I know Mrs Hughes … but I have even more work to do now …" he said despondently, thinking it would take him hours to get the remainder of these shoes, and then the boots, up to Mr Carson's impeccable standards.

Jimmy felt Mr Carson was being too harsh and very unfair but he did not dare express that to Mrs Hughes; he knew that you couldn't get a cigarette paper between the two Heads of Household. They always supported each other and as much as Jimmy had witnessed them bicker occasionally, he knew that neither would ever undermine the other in front of the staff; mores the pity he thought, as he could have done with Mrs Hughes's help now.

"Well, just make sure that you work extra hard and then you'll be back in Mr Carson's good books soon enough … and no more tandem rides …" she replied, with a hint of humour.

Jimmy chuckled as he continued his task.

######

The Housekeeper and Butler were standing a foot apart in his pantry, having one of their regular 'discussions'.

"Mr Carson … the lad is about to collapse … he has been in that Boot Room for hours … please go and tell him that he doesn't have to do the boots as well," she implored.

"No … he needs to be punished … his behaviour was …" he began his rant.

"Intolerable … disrespectful ... improper … unacceptable … deplorable … disobedient … have I missed anything?" she asked cheekily, glaring at the Butler.

"Well!" he responded, exhaling loudly.

"Oh stop being such an old grump and have a heart … you were young once!" she exclaimed, as she turned to walk out of the room.

"Yes I was … and I didn't go riding tandem bicycles when I should be working!" he blustered to an empty room; she had already left.

######

Jimmy was beaming delightedly as he walked up the stairs to the staff quarters to get cleaned up; he was sure that Mrs Hughes must have had a word with the Butler. He knew that he would never have been excused from his punishment otherwise. Mr Carson had obviously not admitted that, he never would. Instead, the Butler had proclaimed that he was tired of looking at Jimmy's miserable face and that he should go upstairs and change, ready for the evening service.

Jimmy grinned thinking that for all of his puff; Mr Carson found it very difficult to say no to the Housekeeper. She can always get him to do what she wants, Jimmy chuckled. He had observed this several times. She would never undermine Mr Carson but she would gently cajole him into doing what she thought was best. Jimmy smiled thinking that he once had a sweetheart like that, before he came to Downton; she could wind him around her little finger and get him to do almost anything. Jimmy felt a flush come over him as he remembered why he had been so compliant with the girl, thinking that he had always been richly rewarded for pleasing her. He started to cough and almost choked, thinking that he hoped that Mrs Hughes was not rewarding the Butler in the same way. Surely not? Although there was a definite spark of something between his two seniors, yet surely they were too old for that, he concluded with a look of horror.

######

Mrs Hughes watched Jimmy ascending the stairs, a contented smile on her face. Our Butler does have a heart, she thought tenderly. Although she already knew that.

######

"How are the plans for the garden party going?" Mr Carson asked Mrs Hughes at dinner.

"Very well yes … we have over a hundred guests and so it is quite an undertaking …" she replied.

"I am sure it would not faze you if there were one thousand guests Mrs Hughes … you will carry it off with aplomb and finesse as always …" he said honestly.

Mrs Hughes paused from eating, gazing at her friend and blushing under his sincere praise. Mr Carson was not one for false praise or platitudes and therefore when he did offer admiration, albeit it professional admiration, she found it very touching.

"Thank you Mr Carson … that means a lot ... but if Her Ladyship invites one thousand guests, I am on the first train to Scotland …" she joked, defusing his compliment.

Mr Carson chuckled as they continued to eat their dinner. After a few moments he stole a glance at Mrs Hughes. He was amazed at the effect his kind words seemed to have on her; he knew that he should praise her more often; he knew that he was guilty of taking her for granted. She had flushed so prettily when he had paid her the compliment about the garden party. Mr Carson shook his head, banishing that thought, by prettily he had meant that … well … it was charming that she became a little self-conscious under his praise; he had not meant to suggest that she looked pretty … although she was pretty of course … that was obvious to anyone … oh for heaven's sake man, what is wrong with you, focus on your dessert, he flustered, shaking his head.

Mrs Hughes looked at Mr Carson out of the corner of her eye. She could see that he was musing over something or other. He looked to be having some sort of internal tussle with himself; she often watched him wrestle with some thought or decision like this. She knew that if he wanted to speak to her about what was bothering him, he would; she had learned not to push him too hard, although if she sensed it was something very worrying, she would push away. However, in this particular case he'd had a little smile on his lips, before he righted himself, and so she knew that it could not be anything too serious.

######

They were sitting at the staff table enjoying a cup of tea, a few of the other staff were still milling around but many had already headed up to bed. Mrs Hughes decided to try her little idea again.

"It has been a long week hasn't it? I cannot remember the last time we had so many dinners and functions …" she began.

"Yes indeed … and we still have the reception tomorrow and so it won't let up for at least another day …" he replied.

"It's a shame that we cannot think of something fun to do … to help us relax?" she said, biting her lip as she picked up her teacup to have another sip.

"Something fun?" he asked warily, not sure where this was going.

"Yes … I was thinking it might be nice to get a little exercise … perhaps a little fresh air … we have been cooped up inside for days …" she continued, straight-faced.

"No …" he boomed, realising now what she was getting at.

"Oh Mr Carson come on …" she giggled.

"No …" he replied, with an amused but defiant face.

"Won't you do it for me? I have always wanted to …" she continued to smile.

"No …" he repeated.

She laughed; he was a stubborn old goat but she couldn't help but care for the man. She made to speak again but this time she did not even get one word out ...

"No …" he added.

######

Jimmy was the last to go upstairs to bed; Lord Grantham had stayed in the library to read when the rest of his family had retired to their rooms. Therefore Jimmy had been on call to serve. He was climbing the servant's stairs to his room when he heard what sounded like a squeal from outside. He looked out of the small window on the first floor landing. The window pane was dirty and he could not see very clearly but he thought he could see some sort of movement. No, it couldn't be, he thought, rubbing his eyes and thinking his tiredness must be affecting his brain. It looked like someone was riding the tandem; it looked like Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, he gasped. He continued to rub his eyes, then looked out of the window again, grinning from ear to ear. My goodness, it is! Jimmy thought he might burst with glee; he would feast on this for days. As he continued to watch the Butler and Housekeeper cycle around and around the courtyard, knowing that they would think all of the staff were already safely ensconced in bed, he had just one thought; Mr Carson really will do anything for Mrs Hughes.


	12. Lady Grantham & Miss Baxter

**_A/N: _****_Thank you for such lovely reviews. _****_I hope you enjoy this chapter. _****_Just to say that the last 4 chapters will probably be posted every other day, rather than every evening as I have managed so far. _****_I returned to work after my summer break yesterday and so life is a little busy! I _****_won't leave it longer than every other day- I promise x_**

Chapter 12

Miss Baxter was standing behind Lady Grantham, styling her hair. It was the annual village flower show this afternoon and, as the Dowager was in London, Lord and Lady Grantham were presenting the prizes.

"Are all of the staff coming along?" Cora asked.

"I think so, certainly most of them … very few would miss the chance to walk into the Village on such a fine day, everyone is quite excited …" Miss Baxter replied.

"Is Carson attending?" Cora asked, with amusement. She could not imagine that the Butler would be excited about a flower show.

"I am not sure … it will depend if Mrs Hughes is going to the show …" Miss Baxter said innocently.

"What do you mean by that Baxter?" Cora asked, twisting her body to look at her Ladies Maid. Cora suddenly seemed to have perked up.

"I meant nothing by it … only that … Mr Carson would enjoy it more if he was there with Mrs Hughes …" she stumbled, thinking that she had just made that sound even worse.

Miss Baxter had not meant anything at all by her initial comment; she was simply speaking the truth. Mr Carson enjoyed Mrs Hughes's company; that was very clear.

"Are you suggesting something Baxter?" Cora's eyes twinkled with excitement.

"No! Certainly not!" she gasped.

"Ummm … Mr Carson likes spending time with Mrs Hughes then?" Cora asked; she wasn't sure why she was teasing, she already knew that the Heads of Staff were good friends.

"Well yes he does … there is nothing improper of course Milady … please do not misunderstand me …" Miss Baxter panicked.

"Of course not … I cannot think of two more proper people … their friendship intrigues me that is all," Cora smiled.

Miss Baxter relaxed at that; she had not put her foot in it as she had first thought.

"Well they are good friends … they support each other … they are equals," she smiled.

"And they enjoy spending time together?" Cora asked.

"Yes they seem to … Mr Carson is always more relaxed when Mrs Hughes is around," Miss Baxter said, as she continued to pin Cora's hair.

"Mr Carson ... relaxed? I never thought I would hear him described as that," Cora giggled, thinking that she would have to pay particular attention to the Housekeeper and Butler at the flower show.

Miss Baxter smiled, thinking that despite being well-meaning, Lord and Lady Grantham did not know their staff very well at all; even their most treasured staff members such as Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes. Anyone who had been in the presence of the two staff leaders for more than a few minutes would notice their affection for one another. Yet, Her Ladyship seemed surprised. Miss Baxter was quiet and reserved but she did notice things, she loved to observe her fellow staff, and she had witnessed time and time again the gentle kindnesses that passed between the Butler and Housekeeper; even when they bickered, there was a true fondness between them.

Miss Baxter knew that she was very different from Mrs Hughes; the older woman was much more self-assured and feisty, yet with a very kind heart. However, the Ladies Maid had always thought there were similarities between Mr Carson and a certain other man she knew. Certainly not obvious similarities but they were both gentlemen, principled and kind. Miss Baxter would be very happy to see the attachment between Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson grow; and she often wondered if this was because it would give her hope that happiness may possible for her too.

"Baxter I seem to have lost you …" Cora said kindly.

"Oh yes Milady … I am sorry … almost done."

######

The hall was jam-packed with villagers as Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes walked inside.

"Who knew flowers were so popular?" Mr Carson said dryly.

"I think people come for the mingling and gossip as much as the flowers," she replied, as they made their way to a space across the hall.

"Gossip? Surely nothing scandalous happens in Downton Village …" he replied seriously.

She raised her eyebrows at him. He looked surprised but interested.

"Really? Come on then … tell me something …" he said, like an excited teenager.

"Mr Carson, I thought you were a gentleman …" she teased.

"You thought wrong …" he joked, as both chuckled happily.

"Ummm well … you know Mr Jacob who owns the dairy farm? Well apparently he is bringing old widow Smithson more than just her milk …" she winked, chuckling happily when she viewed how flabbergasted Mr Carson looked.

"And the oldest son of Mr and Mrs Buckford …" she began.

"The son that emigrated to America?" he asked.

"That's the one … although the last time I looked … Armley prison was not in America … it was forty miles away in Leeds," she smiled knowingly.

"No! How do you know such things?" he asked, utterly amazed.

"People tell me things … I have a friendly face …" she deadpanned.

Mr Carson laughed heartily at that.

"And why have you never told me such things before?" he asked playfully.

"Because I am not a gossip Mr Carson … you wouldn't believe the secrets that are whirling around inside this head …" she said, pointing to her hat.

"I can well imagine …" he smiled, knowing this to be the truth; he feared that he didn't know half of what went on at the Abbey, never mind in Downton Village.

The Butler noticed that two seats had become vacant and so he guided Mrs Hughes to sit down, the prizes would be being awarded shortly. As they sat contently, people watching, they heard guffaws of laughter from the other side of the hall. They both gazed across the room to see Mrs Patmore, Daisy and a few women from the Village giggling like school girls. Mrs Hughes smiled warmly at them.

"You should go and join them Mrs Hughes … don't feel that you have to sit with an old grump like me," he laughed lightly.

However, the Housekeeper could sense that there was an element of truth to his words; does the daft man really think that I would rather be standing with those gaggling women then sitting with him? she thought tenderly. She enjoyed spending time with Mr Carson more than anyone else in the world; she would never tire of his humour, his intelligence, even his pompous, stubborn old ways. She could be herself with the Butler and she looked forward, every evening, to their sherry or wine at the end of the day. Sometimes the thought of sharing a drink with Mr Carson was all that got her through the day. Of course, she could not tell him all of this; that would be most unseemly.

"I am quite happy where I am thank you Mr Carson … very happy indeed," she replied steadily, looking straight ahead at the small stage.

Mr Carson observed Mrs Hughes as she gazed ahead, a soppy smile on his face. _I am very happy too_, he thought gladly.

Lady Grantham had watched the Butler and Housekeeper from across the hall for at least five minutes; Miss Baxter's words still at the forefront of her mind. She watched their easy banter, the smiles and laughter, and she now watched Mr Carson smiling serenely at Mrs Hughes. He was indeed relaxed; he looked like a different man from the one who stood formally in their dining room every evening. Why have I never seen this Mr Carson before? She wondered.

######

The prizes had been awarded; and now all of the Villagers were standing outside the hall, on the green, enjoying a cup of tea. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes had just finished chatting to Anna and Mr Bates and were now standing on their own.

"Did you agree with the decisions of the panel then Mrs Hughes?" he asked, gazing at her mischievously over the rim of his teacup.

"You know that I didn't! Even when the old bat isn't here … she still wins half of the awards!" Mrs Hughes exclaimed.

Mr Carson smiled joyfully; he would never have allowed anyone else to get away with addressing the Dowager in this manner but he almost enjoyed it when Mrs Hughes did.

"Well the Dowager does have a very good gardener …" he replied reasonably.

"Yes exactly … and that is why he should be winning the awards and not her … what has she ever done to grow such beautiful flowers … all she does is walk past them every so often during a morning stroll … her scowl probably does more harm to the flowers than good!" she finished seriously. However, as she watched Mr Carson desperately trying not to laugh, she burst into giggles herself.

"The Dowager is not your favourite person is she?" he suggested.

"Not exactly … and I am not fond of roses either ... I prefer a nice bunch of chrysanths," she cheered.

Mr Carson smiled at the Housekeeper. As they stood on the lawn, the breeze had grown stronger but it was still a pleasant day, in fact the sun was shining in the sky. The cherry blossom tree at the side of the Village Hall was in full bloom, and the gentle winds meant that lots of tiny pink petals were fluttering to the ground. As they finished their tea and one of the church ladies collected their cups, Mr Carson noticed that a small petal had fallen and landed on the side of Mrs Hughes's hair, just below her hat. He wondered if he should mention it, but then decided it was best not to. However, the eagle-eyed Housekeeper noticed his staring.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh … oh nothing … you just have a petal in your hair …" he said, blushing furiously at mentioning something so silly.

_Daft man_, she thought.

"Where is it then?" She asked, as she reached up to her hair, trying to remove it. She looked at him; her expression telling him to give her a clue about where it was. He stepped a little closer.

"Umm … a little to the left … no ... higher … it's a bit further … down a bit …" he muttered, embarrassed to be staring at Mrs Hughes's face so obviously.

She exhaled impatiently.

"For goodness sake … just remove it for me will you? We'll be here all day …" she muttered, shaking her head with a smile.

Mr Carson coughed to hide his nervousness, and he fumbled with his hands, thinking that this was probably not a good idea. He looked around him and realised that at least there were not many people near them.

"Go on … I don't bite …" she said cheekily, as he rolled his eyes at her.

How can this woman make me feel so at ease one moment and then completely befuddled the next, he thought? And why doesn't she get as flummoxed as me? He wondered.

Without further hesitation, he stepped forward and, with the lightest of touches, he raised his hand to gently remove the petal from her hair. As he did so, the palm of his hand gently stroked her cheek and their eyes met. Mr Carson immediately jumped backwards, startled by this touch, as well as his proximity to the Housekeeper. He laughed nervously as he stood, deciding that he needed to say something and quickly.

"All gone," was all he could manage, as he looked to his feet.

I am such a fool he thought, as he stared down at his toes; why I am so anxious? He finally looked upwards, expecting to see an amused and teasing Housekeeper looking back at him. However, he was astonished as he saw a sight that he had rarely seen; a flustered and ruffled Mrs Hughes. Her cheeks were even pinker than his and she was biting her lip as she smiled tensely.

"Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson … have you enjoyed the flower show?" Lady Grantham asked cheerfully.

They both twirled immediately to face her, very glad for the interruption, both feeling unbalanced. Miss Baxter stood beside Cora.

"Yes Milady," they replied in unison.

"I am glad … you looked like you were having fun …" she smiled enthusiastically.

Mrs Hughes watched as Lady Grantham gave the Ladies Maid a deliberate glance. Miss Baxter smiled knowingly. The Housekeeper was not sure what that was about but at that moment, she did not care. Her head was spinning with a million thoughts.

"Well … we should be getting back to the Abbey … good afternoon Mrs Hughes, Mr Carson …" she chimed, as she and Miss Baxter walked towards the car.

The Butler and Housekeeper smiled at each other nervously.

"Sorry about that Mrs Hughes … I didn't mean to touch … I mean to say … I was just trying to remove the petal and my big, clumsy hands …" he muttered, his breathing laboured.

Mr Carson had no understanding at all about why he had turned into a quivering wreck; he concluded that it must be a combination of the heat from the sun and his apprehension about potentially upsetting his best friend. Mrs Hughes knew that she needed to gather herself and stop this unease between them immediately.

"You have nothing to apologise for Mr Carson … you were doing me a favour … it was nothing at all … do not give it another thought … and I have had a lovely afternoon …" she said sincerely.

He smiled in relief; as always, Mrs Hughes had soothed him.

"So have I Mrs Hughes … a really splendid afternoon," he said.

She was very pleased to see his tension disappear; at least one of us is calm, she reasoned, all the while keeping a measured appearance.

"Perhaps you should check inside the hall Mr Carson … chase up any stragglers from the staff? I will wait here for you …" She suggested evenly.

"Yes, good idea Mrs Hughes," he cheered, as he happily ambled towards the hall.

Mrs Hughes waited until he was out of sight, before reaching her hand to her cheek in shock; her fingers resting on the spot where he had touched her face. Her heart was racing as she tried to understand what had just happened. A sudden moment of clarity descended, as the Housekeeper's eyes widened; no, she thought, surely not?


	13. Mr Bates

**_A/N: For those of you wondering if the Dowager will appear; she certainly will! _****_I have been saving her and Thomas for the penultimate chapters. Three _****_chapters to go after this one- hope you enjoy x_**

Chapter 13

_Elsie Hughes get a grip on yourself. __You are being foolish. __It has been that long since you have felt the touch of a__ man that you are reading things into it that simply are not true. __Yes, you were affected when Mr Carson touched your cheek and yes, it did set your heart a flutter, but that does not mean that you … oh dear me … it cannot mean that … he is your dearest friend, __your closest colleague. __It would be highly inappropriate for you to feel anything more than care and respect for Mr Carson. __You cannot possibly be in … _

"Mrs Hughes is the Chinese prepared?" Mr Carson said, as he opened the door to her sitting-room.

The Housekeeper gasped and a strangled mumble left her lips as she turned and gazed at the Butler. Since the flower show the previous day she had been quite unbalanced, trying so hard to make sense of the feelings that kept bubbling up inside her.

"Mrs Hughes are you alright?" he asked, such genuine care in his voice as he looked at her worriedly.

It took her a couple of seconds to respond but finally her resolve kicked in and she righted herself enough to reply.

"Yes Mr Carson, I am perfectly well thank you … I think you must have caught me having a little daydream that is all …" she smiled warmly.

Mr Carson chuckled; relieved that there wasn't anything wrong. He never wanted to see Mrs Hughes upset or anxious; he could not bear it. As he continued to gaze at her, he realised that she still did not quite look herself, there was none of her usual quiet confidence and ease.

"If you are sure that you are ok?" he said, pushing a little further.

"I am … don't you worry about me," she smiled again, noting the concern in the Butler's furrowed brow.

Mr Carson nodded and turned to walk back out of the room; still not fully convinced but not silly enough to push it any further at present. He always felt disconcerted when Mrs Hughes was fretful about something; she was meant to be the steady one. He suddenly remembered why he had originally come into the room and so he turned back to her, taking Mrs Hughes by surprise and turning just in time to catch a definite note of uncertainty on the Housekeeper's face. She had obviously let her guard down thinking that he was leaving the room.

"The Chinese Mrs Hughes … is it ready?" he murmured, looking at her fondly, not quite knowing what else to say.

"It is," she exhaled.

######

As Mrs Hughes walked along the upstairs corridor later that day, she was mumbling to herself again. _Stop this right now. __You are getting yourself all het up over nothing. __Certainly no good can come of these silly notions. __You need to get a grip right now._

"Mrs Hughes?" came a voice from His Lordship's dressing room.

"Oh Mr Bates … I didn't see you there …" she laughed lightly.

"It is the first sign of madness you know … talking to yourself," he teased kindly.

She laughed stiffly.

"You are not wrong … I sometimes think I must be going mad …" she joked in return, although there was a truth to her words.

Mr Bates smiled, watching the Housekeeper as she looked around the corridor distractedly.

"Is everything alright Mrs Hughes?" he asked.

_Why do people keep asking that?_ She thought.

"Yes thank you Mr Bates … it is just one of those days that is all," she sighed, thinking that she needed to hide her feelings much better than she had done so far.

"Are you sure?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Mrs Hughes had given him and his wife untold support over the years and he would gladly give the Housekeeper the same support in return.

"Yes quite sure … I just have a few things on my mind," she answered vaguely.

"Have you had a fight with Mr Carson?" he asked softly, knowing that this was the only thing that seemed to make the Housekeeper feel a little off-balance at times.

"No! Not at all … why ever would you think that?" she asked, truly amazed.

"It is only that … when either you or Mr Carson are out of sorts, it is usually because you have had a disagreement with the other … not that is affects your running of the House of course," he quickly added.

"I see … well no, we have not had a falling-out," she replied, surprised that Mr Bates would ever have noticed when they did; she had thought they hid their disagreements quite well from the staff. Mr Bates could see her puzzlement.

"Mrs Hughes, I did not mean to add to your worry … no-one else would ever notice. I just recognise the same tension between you and Mr Carson that I feel between Anna and I when we bicker," he said kindly and then panicked as he realised what he had unintentionally suggested.

Mrs Hughes's eyes flew open wide as she took a deep breath.

"I am sure that I don't need to remind you Mr Bates that Mr Carson and I are very different to you and Anna … we are not married for one," she said firmly, her heart racing.

"Yes of course," he stated, realising that he should not say any more.

"I must get on … and I do appreciate your concern Mr Bates but I am quite fine," she said, returning to a more friendly tone.

######

"Mr Carson what are you doing?" she asked, as she watched the Butler fold the final sheet and place it on top of the pile in the linen cupboard.

"I had a spare few minutes and so I thought I would check and stack the linens," he smiled.

"Are you after my job Mr Carson? I can't see you in a dress ..." she smiled mischievously, as she pointed to her outfit.

She knew what he was really doing; he did not fool her. Mr Carson was worried about her odd behaviour earlier and he often showed his care by fussing over her and trying to ease her workload. He really is an adorable man, she thought, as she smiled at him. She then shook herself out of her reverie; not allowing herself to go down that path again.

He rolled his eyes in amusement at her joke but he was very happy to see that some of her spark had reappeared, although she still seemed a little rattled.

"I thought you liked the idea of me in a kilt?" he asked, pretending to be insulted.

"A kilt yes, but I am not sure I could take you seriously in a dress ... we could give it a try if you like?" she giggled.

"Maybe tomorrow ..." he added dryly.

"Tomorrow it is ... and thank you for your help Mr Carson," she smiled.

######

"So ... as far as you are aware there is nothing wrong?" Mr Carson asked Mrs Patmore, as he followed her around the kitchen.

"No … how many times do I have to tell you? Mrs Hughes has not said a word to me," she replied tetchily, thinking that she had so much to do and this great big bear of a Butler would not leave her in peace.

"There is something wrong, I know it … oh god, you don't think that she is ill again?" he said, utterly terrified, and pain all over his face.

Mrs Patmore stalled at that; it was obvious to her how much this great bear cared for Mrs Hughes. The man was beside himself and all because Mrs Hughes was not quite her normal perky self when he had spoken to her this morning.

"Mr Carson … stop worrying yourself into a tizzy … Mrs Hughes is not ill … heavens … she is probably just exhausted … she does the job of about twenty people … she soothes and supports everyone in the House, upstairs and down ... the woman is probably just tired," Mrs Patmore suggested rationally.

Mr Carson nodded, relieved and happy at that; not happy that Mrs Hughes was so exhausted but happy that Mrs Patmore had convinced him that there was nothing more amiss.

"Yes … yes … you are right," he smiled.

######

"I brought you some tea and biscuits … I thought a little sustenance might be in order whilst you work," Mr Carson smiled, as he placed the tray beside her on her desk.

He was still a little worried if he was honest but as she had insisted that she was fine, he would just have to find tiny ways of taking care of her.

"Thank you Mr Carson, that is very kind," she smiled. He is such a caring man, she thought.

Mrs Hughes gazed at the Butler as he hovered beside her desk thinking that whatever feelings she had for this lovely man, and she was still at a loss to fully understand them, she was blessed to have him in her life. As she had this thought, she gave him the most radiant smile.

Mr Carson watched Mrs Hughes in silence, as a beautiful smile adorned her face. She looked up at him with twinkling eyes and he got lost in the moment. Unbeknownst to himself, the Butler was beaming back at her just as brightly.

"I am sorry Mrs Hughes …" he said, finally becoming aware that he was lost in his thoughts.

"It must be my turn to daydream," he added.

She smiled tenderly as she watched the Butler become all of a tither in front of her.

"I think we both must need more sleep ..." she joked.

"Yes … yes I think we must ..." he grinned, and then as he walked out of the room, glancing over his shoulder to smile at her again, he almost tripped over a chair.

######

Mr Bates was in the Boot Room, finishing polishing His Lordship's shoes; he enjoyed this time of the day. Most of the staff were upstairs tending to their afternoon chores and so, as Valet, he could enjoy the stillness and quiet of downstairs. He could hear Mrs Patmore humming to herself in the kitchen but other than that, there was not a sound. Until he heard the Butler's footsteps walking down the corridor that is. Mr Bates watched through the gap in the door as Mr Carson walked past the room, on his way to the kitchen. The Valet was surprised to note that Mr Carson was carrying a large bunch of yellow flowers in his hand, wrapped in beautiful tissue paper. Mr Bates viewed this with interest, wondering if the flowers could possibly be a gift for a certain Scottish Housekeeper. He shook his head, smiling happily, thinking that his wife was to blame for him having such ludicrous thoughts.

######

The Family had retired and so Mr Bates's day was complete. He was about to walk back to the cottage; Anna would already be there as Lady Mary was in London. He could see a light under the Housekeeper's door and so he decided to say goodnight and to check that she was ok; she had seemed unsettled earlier in the day.

He knocked and entered.

"Good evening Mr Bates … shouldn't you be off home?" she smiled.

"Yes … just on my way … I only wanted to say goodnight Mrs Hughes," he replied.

He smiled to himself as he noticed the large vase of flowers on her desk.

"They are lovely," he ventured, pointing to the yellow flowers.

"Ah yes … they are aren't they? They are chrysanthemums … my favourite bloom and my favourite colour," she said, gazing sweetly at the flowers.

"Well that was a very thoughtful gesture by someone … I presume they were a gift?" he asked, knowing the answer but not being able to help himself; he wanted Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes to have a 'happy ever after' almost as much as Anna did.

"Yes they were … Mrs Patmore thought that I needed cheering up … it was very kind of her and it certainly made my day," she replied cheerfully.

Mr Bates tried to hide his surprise although he soon realised that he should not be surprised at all; Mr Carson would think it very improper to buy his respected colleague flowers. However, he obviously wanted to make Mrs Hughes smile and so he had found a way to give her this caring gift, without her knowing it was actually from him. Anna had always said that the two senior members of staff looked after each other and this was yet another example of their care. However, Mr Bates smiled knowingly, buying flowers for a lady showed much more than just care.

**_A/N: Thank you so much for your amazing reviews. _****_Please do continue to let me know what you think x_**


	14. The Dowager

**_A/N: Your reviews are simply wonderful! Thank you very, very much. Two more chapters to go after this one x_**

Chapter 14

"Mrs Hughes … the Dowager has asked for you," Mr Carson said, as he hurtled down the stairs with an empty tray.

"Why on earth does she want to see me?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"I don't know … I am not a mind reader!" he said, more sharply than he intended.

It had been frantically busy upstairs and the Butler was feeling a little overwrought but the last person he wanted to take it out on was Mrs Hughes.

She glared at him; how is it possible to care so much for a man and yet also want to throttle him at regular intervals throughout the day? She wondered.

"Sorry Mrs Hughes …" he said contritely, gazing at her anxiously.

"I will forgive you ... just this once …" she teased, giving him a wink before climbing the stairs. He smiled a relieved smile; forgiven again.

######

Mr Carson watched in amusement as, across the Library, the Dowager spoke to Mrs Hughes. The Housekeeper was the epitome of respect and professionalism. No-one else would notice the clenching of her hands, the strain on her lips; both signs to Mr Carson that Mrs Hughes was growing more and more annoyed.

He had heard snippets of the conversation; it would appear that the Dowager would like Mrs Hughes to organise some sort of event at Dower House. It seemed that the Dowager was determined to outdo a much-despised acquaintance by holding a party on the same evening as hers. The older woman had only found out about her rival's plans that same day and so the celebration needed to be organised at haste. The Dowager had begun by asking Mrs Hughes for advice but she seemed to have now smoothly segued into assuming the Housekeeper would also organise the event. Mr Carson was now less than amused; he was sure that the Dowager had said the celebration would be in just two days time.

Mrs Hughes somehow kept her patience. As the Dowager continued to talk, this 'small gathering' seemed to have transformed into the social event of the decade; a party that would rival a Buckingham Palace Ball. As Mrs Hughes continued to smile politely, Mr Carson came across to offer further drinks to the Dowager and Lady Grantham, who was sitting with her.

"Oh Carson … good … you can give me your opinion on this matter … I was just explaining to Mrs Hughes that I am undecided about inviting the Daimley's … Sir Hugh is pleasant enough but his wife is very dull …" she said scathingly, as the Housekeeper's eyebrows raised a little.

"I cannot possibly comment Milady … but it is your prerogative to choose the guest list," he replied measuredly.

"That is Carson's diplomatic way of agreeing that she is dull … let's not invite them …" she decreed.

"Oh I wonder if we should invite the Ampleforths?" she asked to no-one in particular. She then called across the Library to her son, who was sitting with Lady Mary.

"Robert … this soiree that Mrs Hughes is organising for me … do you think we should keep it to an intimate twenty or invite all of the waifs and strays and take it up to fifty?" she began.

Mrs Hughes turned to gape at Mr Carson. He returned an understanding yet helpless grimace. He wished he could do something to help her but he could not see a way out of this situation now; the Dowager was determined that the party should take place. He knew how much work Mrs Hughes had to do over the next few weeks at the House and another event of this magnitude would be almost impossible. The Housekeeper offered a weary smile to the Butler; she knew there was nothing he could do to help but she was still very glad to have his reassuring presence by her side this evening; she smiled thinking that she was always glad to have this warm-hearted, daft man at her side.

As the Dowager continued to talk to her son across the room, Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson continued to share understanding glances. The old lady's tones resounded; _Perhaps_ _an orchestra? __Eight courses or possibly six? Shall we have them__ stay overnight? A __marquee?_ The sheer size of the party was growing and growing; Mrs Hughes sincerely hoped that the Dowager would stop talking soon. Mr Carson gazed at the Housekeeper as she looked ahead at the Dowager and Lady Grantham. The Butler could see that she was trying so hard to look composed and calm despite the burden being placed on her; he was pained to see the anxiety and concern etched on her face.

For the first time in his life; Mr Carson felt quite angry with the Family. Had they any idea how hard Mrs Hughes worked? Did they realise that she was the first to rise every morning, even before the kitchen maids, and then the last to retire every night? Did they appreciate that this wonderful woman could organise a garden party for two hundred guests within a timeframe that would make most Housekeepers weep. No, it seemed they did not, Mr Carson sighed heavily. In fact, instead of valuing all of Mrs Hughes's merits, they simply continued to pile more and more work and pressure on her. He felt incensed as he watched Mrs Hughes growing more and more drained, her shoulders dropping with the weight of everything that was being expected of her.

"This is not right," he boomed, startling himself as well as everyone else; he had not meant to say that out loud.

Oh my good god, Mr Carson flustered, as Mrs Hughes turned to look at him, her mouth dropping open. In fact, everyone in the room turned to look at him. Lord Grantham and Lady Mary even walked across to join them. They all seemed flabbergasted that the Butler should have spoken at all, never mind their amazement at what he had just uttered.

"What is not right Carson?" The Dowager asked in her most imperious manner.

He coughed a couple of times to try to play for time; what could he say by way of explanation other than the truth. The pause was excruciating; everyone wondering what he was going to say. Mrs Hughes could not bear it any longer and jumped in.

"Milady, Mr Carson did not mean a thing … he was simply …" she began, but paused as the Butler touched her arm lightly.

She caught his gaze, her eyes pleading with him not to do anything silly. However, his eyes also gave her a clear message;_ It will be ok Mrs Hughes, don't worry, but I must speak. _She nodded towards him understandingly yet nervously.

The Housekeeper was temporarily unbalanced by the affect his small touch and gaze had had on her but she quickly recovered. She knew that the Family, and particularly the Dowager, meant everything to Mr Carson and the last thing she wanted was for him to fall foul of them because of her.

"I do beg your pardon for interrupting Milady and I apologise for blurting out my thoughts in such a fashion, however I meant what I said … this is not right," he said steadily.

Mrs Hughes gasped quietly; and the Family inhaled sharply at Mr Carson's frankness. This was not something they were used to seeing; the Butler was usually so measured and deferential. He had never openly shown disagreement with the Family.

The Butler realised there was no turning back; and if he was honest, he did not want to turn back. With politeness and respect, he wanted to defend and protect his dear friend whom he cared for very much.

"Go on …" the Dowager said, with an authoritative glare towards the Butler.

Mrs Hughes bit her lip with worry.

"It is not right Milady that, with two days' notice, Mrs Hughes should be asked to organise such a major event … she already has a garden party for over two hundred to prepare, three separate dinners this week, each with overnight guests, and a charitable fundraiser to organise for Mrs Crawley … lord knows there is not a more remarkable or accomplished Housekeeper in the land but even for Mrs Hughes ... this is asking too much," he finished confidently, belying the nerves he felt in speaking so honestly to the Family.

Mrs Hughes had to stop herself from reaching up and kissing him right there and then; she was so proud of Mr Carson and very touched that he should defend her in this way. He briefly caught her gaze and although neither dared smile in that moment, the Butler was rewarded with her sparkling eyes beaming back at him.

"Well …" the Dowager gasped, quite stunned. Everyone else present was also stunned; even the Butler himself looked quite shell-shocked.

"Grandmamma, Carson is right … this is too much to ask," Lady Mary said.

"Yes mother … we did get somewhat carried away and it really is quite unreasonable," Lord Grantham added.

"Yes Violet … you cannot expect Mrs Hughes to organise a party in just two days ... a party that you have just dreamed up on a whim …" Lady Grantham said supportively.

"Am I going to be allowed to respond or are you all going to continue to speak for me? I am not a child!" she said haughtily.

All present looked suitably chastened. Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson both gulped nervously.

"Mrs Hughes, do you agree that the party I was suggesting would be difficult to organise at such short notice?" the Dowager asked.

"It is always possible Milady but as Mr Carson said, with so many other events already in the planning stages, it would place an inordinate strain on the entire staff," Mrs Hughes replied.

The Dowager nodded; she had always admired the woman in front of her. She was impressively grounded and unsentimental, quietly confident yet modest, and it was typical of Mrs Hughes to think of the strain on her staff rather than herself.

"Well then we shall postpone these plans … I will not give anyone cause to describe me as unreasonable," she simpered, glowering at her Family and even giving Mr Carson a small scowl. He swallowed hard.

"Thank you Milady," Mrs Hughes replied respectfully.

"It is Mr Carson you have to thank Mrs Hughes … you have quite a defender in our Butler …" she teased, looking at Mr Carson meaningfully as he blushed with embarrassment.

Mrs Hughes also felt her cheeks tinge a little pink, as she smiled fondly at Mr Carson. The Butler returned her smile without thinking and then quickly reasserted his more professional and stoic demeanour. The Dowager noticed the warmth in his gaze before he returned to his more usual, formal stance.

"Will that be all Milady?" Mrs Hughes asked, desperate to get out of the Library before she fainted; she was feeling quite overcome with the events of the last few minutes.

"I should think so yes … although perhaps Carson could get me another brandy … as long as you don't have too much work to do this evening Carson? I wouldn't want to burden you," she trilled dryly.

The Butler bit back a smile at her wit.

"Of course Milady," he replied formally, as he bowed his head slightly and went to the sideboard to pour her drink.

Mrs Hughes also nodded to the Family and then turned and walked towards the door. Mr Carson was still pouring the brandy as Mrs Hughes approached the door. She paused and waited for him to turn to look her way. When he did, she gave him the most heartfelt smile and mouthed a grateful 'thank you' to him. He stood proudly, and felt just a little bit taller than before.

######

Once outside the Library Mrs Hughes dashed downstairs, eager to get to her sitting-room as speedily as possible. She needed to release the emotion she had been containing all evening. As she descended the stairs she was a picture of composure, nodding and smiling at the members of staff that she passed on her way. Finally she reached her sitting-room and closed the door behind her, leaning back against the cold, wooden doorframe. She clasped her hands to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes, the most glowing smile on her face.

_He supported me and stood up for me against the Family, against the Dowager Countess no less. __Mr Carson really is on my side__,_ she thought, overwhelmed by his actions, as happy tears glistened on her cheeks.

######

Mr Carson, whilst not regretting a word of what he had said to the Dowager, did regret the manner in which his comments had come to light. He had been eager to speak to the Dowager all evening but he had never had the chance. Finally, as he called for her car and helped her with her coat, he would finally get his change; as Mr Carson and the Dowager stood alone in the Great Hall.

"Milady … I do apologise for my outspokenness this evening … my words came out of my mouth before I could stop them …" he explained.

"Carson, neither you nor I have time for ditherers … did you mean those words? You certainly sounded like you did," she said.

"Yes Milady, I did," he replied solemnly.

"Then do not waste time on apologies … no harm was done … other than a small dent to my reputation as a formidable, fearsome matriarch …" she said seriously. However, Carson could see a tweak of a smile on her lips.

"You are still the most admirable matriarch Milady … there is no fear of you losing that title …" he returned, just as dryly.

She nodded in acceptance of this compliment.

The car had arrived and therefore Mr Carson escorted the Dowager to her vehicle. Her chauffeur helped her into the car, as the Butler took a step backwards. Just as the car was pulling away, the Dowager lowered her window. She looked at him with a quizzical expression.

"Carson … you do know that you are in love with Mrs Hughes?"


	15. Thomas Barrow

**_A/N: The penultimate chapter- and it's very long! Hope you enjoy x_**

Chapter 15

It had been a week since the Dowager had uttered those startling words to Mr Carson, and he had been in a befuddled state since then. He knew that he had not been himself with Mrs Hughes and he knew that she had noticed something was amiss. She must think it very strange, he thought; I normally discuss everything with her. Yet he could not discuss this with her, he was still trying to work through his confused feelings himself.

The Dowager had told Mr Carson that he was in love with Mrs Hughes; as her car pulled away, she had declared it with total conviction, as confidently as if she was describing the moon in the night sky. Could this be true? He wondered, for the thousandth time that week. He knew that he cared very much for Mrs Hughes; she was his dear friend, of course he cared. However, he had never once thought that he might be in love with her; this would be highly disingenuous to Mrs Hughes. She saw him as a friend. It wouldn't be right, it wouldn't be proper. Oh good god, I cannot bear this; I want things to go back to the way they were before the Dowager spoke. I was happy then, Mr Carson reflected ruefully; happy with my dear friend and colleague at my side.

Enough of this blustering, he reprimanded himself; the guests won't serve themselves. He needed to get back outside to the party and attempt to act normally, particularly around Mrs Hughes.

######

Lady Grantham was hosting another garden party; this particular gathering was to fundraise for a veteran's charity. Therefore, a selection of the great and good sat on the lawn being served an array of delightful drinks and canapés by the Downstairs staff. As always, the planning had been meticulous; Mrs Hughes certainly knew how to organise a first class garden party.

It had been a busy week with three dinner parties held at Downton and despite her hard work and stamina; Mrs Hughes was starting to feel the effects. She had not been feeling herself for days, in fact she had been feeling extraordinarily tired. Yet, of course, she had not mentioned this to a soul, and the rest of the staff were also so busy that they hadn't had time to notice. She soldiered on and hoped that her weariness was simply down to overwork; she could not remember when she last had a good night's sleep. She also knew that something was bothering Mr Carson and despite her best efforts, he would not tell her what was worrying him; this unsettled her greatly. She was only ever truly happy when Mr Carson was happy.

"Mr Barrow stop that right now …" she shouted, as she approached the drinks tent.

She could not hear what Thomas was saying but she could tell by his stance that he was being unpleasant towards Mr Molesley.

Thomas gave Mrs Hughes a smirk but immediately stepped away from the Footman; he knew better than to push his luck with the Housekeeper.

"Mrs Hughes … Lady Grantham asked if they could have some blankets laid out on the lawn … it seems some of her guests would like to stretch out in the sun …" Miss Baxter explained.

"Yes of course … I'll send someone to fetch them," she replied, grasping a nearby table as she felt a little dizzy.

Mrs Hughes was feeling very tired and her muscles ached. She shook her head, reminding herself that she could take a half day tomorrow; she planned to spend it in bed.

As the Housekeeper looked around the tent she realised that there was no-one to ask to collect the blankets; everyone else already had a job. I'll get them myself, she thought despairingly. As she dragged herself back to the House; she mused that she had actually suggested blankets to Lady Grantham at their first planning meeting, only to be told they wouldn't be necessary.

######

She had collected the blankets and was heading back to the marquee, just as Mr Carson approached her. She tried to look brighter than she felt, her head was pounding.

As Mr Carson approached her, he reminded himself to act normally. Don't be a fool, you ridiculous old man, he thought, you cannot possibly be in love with Mrs Hughes. She is your friend and colleague.

"Oh there you are Mrs Hughes … I have been looking for you … Lady Grantham would like a word," he smiled, not at all realising how unwell Mrs Hughes was feeling.

"Right … I will just take these blankets to the guests and then I will speak to her …" Mrs Hughes said, forcing a smile.

Mrs Hughes had spoken to Lady Grantham; the important matter was simply a song request for the orchestra, and now she was helping Mrs Patmore plate more sandwiches and scones.

"We need to hire more staff for these events Mrs Hughes … there simply isn't enough of us to cope with over two hundred guests …" the Cook breathed heavily. She had been running around all day.

"I agree … I will speak to Her Ladyship about it after the party," Mrs Hughes reassured.

As they finished with the sandwiches, Mr Branson approached.

"Can I have a word Mrs Hughes?" he asked. Now was not a good time but she didn't like to turn him down; she had always had a soft spot for the young man and he looked worried about something.

"Yes of course, Mr Branson," she smiled weakly. Her throat was feeling sore. Damn it Elsie, this is not the time to come down with something, she chided herself. She decided that whatever it was; it couldn't be too bad, as she was still up and about, if only just.

The two walked to the side of the tent.

"Mrs Patmore have you seen Mrs Hughes? I need her to speak to a couple of the maids … they are behaving quite unacceptably …" Mr Carson asked.

Beryl pointed in the direction of Mrs Hughes, who was just walking back from her chat with Mr Branson.

Mrs Hughes had been relieved to find out that the matter Mr Branson wished to discuss was nothing too taxing; he just wanted some advice about Miss Bunting.

Mrs Hughes looked to Mr Carson; what now? She again forced a smile.

"Mrs Hughes … could you go and speak to Helen and Martha … they are bickering about something or other … and I don't want them being overhead by the guests …" he said.

"Of course Mr Carson … I will go and sort that now …" she whispered, her sore throat was getting worse.

"Oh and Mrs Crawley wants to speak to you … about the soirée you are helping her with next week …" Mr Carson said.

"Yes … yes of course …" she said, rubbing her throat with her hand. She let out a short sigh.

"Are you alright Mrs Hughes?" Mr Carson asked.

"Yes … yes … fine … quite fine … it has just been a hectic day that is all …" she smiled kindly.

She did not want to worry him; he had enough to do and he obviously had his own worries.

The Butler was relieved; he needed Mrs Hughes to be steady more than ever now.

"Yes it has … I will make sure to open a bottle of the finest Merlot for us tonight … I think we deserve it …" he smiled fondly and then blushed at his own suggestion.

He shook his head at his absurdity; you always suggest wine with Mrs Hughes, it never usually embarrasses you. Yet he knew he was now overly conscious about showing his feelings; even though he was not quite sure what feelings he was worried about showing. What a mess! He worried.

"Lovely …" she swallowed, thinking that all she wanted tonight was her bed. He gave a relieved, tiny smile.

There were so many guests that finding anyone was difficult but she managed to sort the problem with the maids and she also spoke to Mrs Crawley. Lady Mary had also asked for some cushions to go with the blankets and somehow Mrs Hughes had remained polite and assured her that she would bring them immediately. The Housekeeper was on her way back to the House to collect the cushions when her head began to swirl. She felt very light-headed; the side of her head was now pounding ferociously. Her legs felt as heavy as lead as she tried in vain to put one in front of the other and her throat was so painful she could hardly swallow.

The Housekeeper stumbled but gripped the back of a nearby chair, somehow managing to keep herself upright. She looked around in panic; worried that she might pass out. However, all she could see were guests and she could not ask any of them for help. She was breathing heavily as she scanned the crowds; she could not see one member of staff. Oh good lord, she fretted, as her dizziness increased. She was sure that she was about to collapse. Out of the corner of her eye she finally spotted Thomas; not an ideal saviour but he would have to do.

"Mr Barrow …" she tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper. Her throat was too sore.

Oh dear god. She tried again but he still didn't hear her. However, thankfully, he was moving closer to her, collecting glasses. As he neared her, she reached out and grasped his arm.

"Mrs Hughes … what are you …" he began but them saw the ashen face of the Housekeeper and he didn't need to say any more.

He dropped his tray on the nearest table and reached out to support Mrs Hughes, holding her upright; with one arm around her back and the other supporting her arm. In any other circumstances this would have been highly improper but he didn't think she would be able to stay upright otherwise; he had never seen the Housekeeper look so weak. He was frightened; Mrs Hughes was always the strongest person at the Abbey but she looked dreadful as she rested against his side, her breathing laboured.

"What should I do?" he flustered.

They were surrounded by guests and noise; the chatter of conversation, the music from the orchestra. Mrs Hughes did not want to cause a scene; she did not want any of the guests to know that she was ill. However, they would know soon enough if she did not get back to the House.

"Get Mr Carson," she whispered, knowing it would take two of them to get her to the House without causing a commotion.

"Yes … yes … but will you be ok? Shouldn't you sit Mrs Hughes?" he flustered.

"I think it's best if I try to keep standing … I don't want any of the guests to know anything is wrong …" she gasped, noticing the worry on the Under-Butler's face. She was touched by that; he could behave horridly at times but she had always known that he was not all bad.

"I will be ok Thomas … just be quick … please …" she begged, deliberately using his first name to reassure him.

Thomas nodded and dashed off to find the Butler. He found Mr Carson quickly but was exasperated to see him talking to the Dowager. He is going to kill me but I am going to have to interrupt him, Thomas thought.

"I do apologise Milady but I need a word with Mr Carson …" Thomas cut in.

Mr Carson looked at the Under-Butler in horror, thinking how dare Thomas be so rude.

"Mr Barrow … whatever it is can wait … I will thank you not to be so ill-mannered … and I will speak to you about your impertinence later," he said, dismissing Thomas and turning back to the Dowager.

Thomas knew that Mrs Hughes did not want a fuss and so he daren't announce why he needed Mr Carson's help.

"Mr Carson, it cannot wait … please may I have a word?" Thomas pleaded.

Mr Carson looked like he might combust. He would deal with Thomas now and no mistake. He offered his apologies to the Dowager and glared at Thomas as he joined him a couple of yards away. Mr Carson was about to launch into a tirade as Thomas interrupted him.

"It's Mrs Hughes Mr Carson … she is very ill … you need to come quickly," Thomas gasped.

The Under-Butler watched Mr Carson's face turn from total fury to utter distress. Thomas had never seen such agony on his face.

"Where is she?" Mr Carson gasped.

Rather than speak, Thomas started to stride in the direction of Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson paced after him. As they neared her, Mr Carson thought his heart might burst out of his chest. He could see from a distance how ill she was; how on earth hadn't he noticed earlier? You were too absorbed in your own feelings that's why, he realised in shame.

"Mrs Hughes … my god … are you ok?" Mr Carson panted as he reached her.

"I have been better Mr Carson … but please keep your voice down … I need to get inside without a fuss," she breathed.

Those words took all of the energy she had left; as she collapsed against Mr Carson's chest in exhaustion. He wrapped his arms around her securely to stop her falling to the ground. He knew that the speediest way to get her inside would be to pick her up, clear off the ground, and he would have happily done that. However, he knew that she was a proud woman and she would not want the attention this action would cause.

"Can you hold Mrs Hughes's other side Tho … Mr Barrow? We are going to try to walk you into the house Mrs Hughes …" he stated calmly. He needed to be strong for his friend; he could fall apart later.

"Yes … yes of course …" Thomas gasped, as he stepped to the side of the Housekeeper. Mr Carson could see that the younger man was very anxious; he had never seen Thomas so genuinely worried.

They both held Mrs Hughes, with one arm each encircling her back and with the other arm they both held one of her arms, guiding her slowly to the House. The two men were taking all of her weight; she had not an ounce of energy left to stand upright. As soon as they were out of sight of the guests, Mr Carson lifted Mrs Hughes in the air. She did not have the strength to protest and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Mr Barrow … call for Doctor Clarkson … get him to come immediately … and please inform His Lordship … and get Mrs Patmore to come and help … and Thomas … please be quick …" Mr Carson pleaded, as he held the Housekeeper safely in his arms, tears welling in his eyes, struggling to be strong.

"I will Mr Carson … I will …" Thomas said, as he ran off to get help.

######

"It's going to be ok Mrs Hughes … don't you worry … it's going to be ok … Doctor Clarkson is on his way … he won't be long … and Mrs Patmore is coming to help … she will be here soon ... but, for now, you are stuck with me I am afraid ... I am here for you Mrs Hughes … right here …" he soothed, as he stroked her forehead with a damp cloth.

He had carried her up to her bedroom and laid her down on her bed. She was burning up and so he had opened a window and he was now trying to cool her brow. She needed to get out of her clothes but he certainly could not do that. She was very drowsy but was still conscious. Mr Carson wasn't sure what to do but he reasoned that it was best to keep her talking if he could.

"I'll be alright Mr Carson ... don't you worry ..." she whispered, as she tried to open her eyes to see him; her eyelids felt so heavy, she couldn't manage it.

Oh my goodness, she is trying to reassure me, even when she is ill she is making sure that I am fine.

"Of course you'll be alright ... we'll have you up and about in no time ... who'll keep the grumpy old bear of a Butler in line otherwise?" he tried to joke, as he continued to soothe her brow.

Despite her weakness, he saw a brief smile on her lips.

Mrs Hughes's throat felt so painful.

"Water please?" she croaked.

"Yes ... of course," he said, rising to fill a jug.

He poured her a glass. He knew she was too weak to hold the glass and so he added another pillow behind her to prop her up a little. He then wound his arm around her shoulders to raise her further, and gently tilted the glass to her lips. As he watched Mrs Hughes try to swallow some of the water, he raised a prayer up to heaven; please god make her get better, please god. I will do anything, just please make Mrs Hughes be alright.

######

Mrs Patmore and Lord Grantham had arrived minutes later, and Mr Branson was on his way to collect Doctor Clarkson; he had insisted on collecting the doctor himself. Thomas watched Mr Branson drive off at great speed as the Under-Butler waited downstairs to greet the doctor and to bring him straight up to Mrs Hughes.

Mrs Patmore had undressed Mrs Hughes; making her more comfortable in her nightgown, and now the Cook, Butler and Lord Grantham were in the bedroom. Mrs Patmore sat by the Housekeeper's side and continued to bathe Mrs Hughes's forehead in cool water, also running the wet towel over her neck and upper chest; areas that Mr Carson had not dared touch. Mrs Hughes was no longer conscious.

Mr Carson looked at His Lordship, somehow controlling his rising anxiety. They could both see clearly how unwell she was.

"This all seems too sudden ... has Mrs Hughes been feeling ill for a while?" Lord Grantham asked worriedly.

"I fear she has ... and covered it too well ... I should have spotted it ... I should have known ..." Charles muttered desperately. He would never forgive himself if something ... no, he could not even think about that.

His Lordship gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"You couldn't have known Carson," he reassured.

######

Lord Grantham had returned to his family; word had spread about the Housekeeper's illness and he needed to try to reassure both his family and the downstairs staff. Mrs Patmore and Mr Carson remained with Mrs Hughes. The Butler reached out to hold Mrs Hughes's hand and then suddenly realised how improper that may look; he snatched his hand backwards, looking down at his toes as he sat. He had no right to hold her hand, yet he wanted to so much, he wanted to comfort her; he felt completely torn.

Without a word, Mrs Patmore reached over from where she sat at the other side of the bed. She lifted Mr Carson's hand and gently rested it on the Housekeeper's small hand. The Butler looked up at the Cook in surprise; she gave him a warm smile and nodded reassuringly. He smiled back at Mrs Patmore in gratitude. The Cook held the Housekeeper's other hand as she and Mr Carson looked at each other anxiously; it was clear that Mrs Hughes was very ill indeed.

"She is a fighter Mr Carson ... she'll get through this," the Cook said as confidently as she could. He smiled weakly, trying to remain strong.

Just then they heard footsteps outside; Doctor Clarkson had arrived. Thank god, the Butler sighed.

######

Mr Carson stepped outside whilst the doctor examined Mrs Hughes, as was appropriate. Mrs Patmore stayed at her side. As he closed the door behind him, he finally allowed his emotions to come to the surface. The corridor was clear. He rested backwards against the cold stone wall, his hands over his mouth and began to sob; huge, painful sobs that shook his entire body as tears streamed down his face.

At that moment, Thomas turned the corner into the women's corridor, with the boiling water Doctor Clarkson had requested. He stopped abruptly on seeing Mr Carson and quickly sped back around the corner, startled by what he had just seen. The Butler was in tears, beside himself with concern for Mrs Hughes. Thomas bit his lip to withhold his own emotion. He realised that he shouldn't be surprised; he had seen the fear in Mr Carson's eyes out on the lawn, the tears that formed in his eyes as he held Mrs Hughes so tenderly, and now the man was broken with worry. Thomas knew that the proud Head of Staff would be mortified to be seen in this state and he had no wish to embarrass him. This was not the time for Thomas to play games. He smiled sadly thinking that no-one would expect him to show any kindness but that is exactly what he was going to do.

"Mr Branson ... I will be with you in two minutes ... I must take this water to Doctor Clarkson," Thomas shouted, out of sight around the corner.

He hoped this warning would give Mr Carson time to gather himself. He waited a few more seconds and then rounded the corner; sure enough Mr Carson was standing up straight and his tears had been wiped away. Thomas noticed his red-rimmed eyes but pretended he hadn't.

"How is Mrs Hughes, Mr Carson?" Thomas asked.

"She is very unwell Mr Barrow but she is a strong woman, I have no doubt she'll get through this," he said confidently, he was trying to convince himself as much as Thomas.

######

It was late evening and Dr Clarkson had finally come out of the bedroom. Mr Carson had been pacing the corridor for what seemed like hours.

"Mumps?" Mr Carson asked, as he stood with Dr Clarkson.

"Yes … one of the worst cases I have ever seen … she is very weak …" he replied woefully.

"But she'll be ok? She will be ok?" the Butler asked terrified.

Mr Carson watched as Doctor Clarkson suddenly looked nervous. The Butler stared at him, as the doctor seemed at a loss for what to say.

"If she gets through the night ... she will have a very good chance of getting through this …" he said measuredly.

"If? What do you mean if? Mrs Hughes is strong … she is stronger than all of us … there must be something you can do? She cannot … she simply cannot," Mr Carson flustered, not being able to say the word.

"There is no treatment for mumps Mr Carson … we will just have to keep her comfortable and pray that she gets through this … do not hesitate to phone me if she worsens …" the doctor said, before walking down the corridor.

Mr Carson walked into the bedroom in a daze; this cannot be happening. As he looked at his dear friend, he felt immense guilt, fear and panic. He could not live without her. He caught the gaze of Mrs Patmore and Anna, who were attending to Mrs Hughes; he could see that they had both been crying.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, feeling lost.

"Why don't you get some sleep Mr Carson? You look done in … Anna and I are going to sleep in here … we will keep Mrs Hughes comfortable throughout the night … she will get through this …" Mrs Patmore replied kindly.

"I should have known she was ill … I should have been there for her …" he whimpered.

"Mr Carson, how could you have known? Mrs Hughes hid this from all of us … she doesn't like a fuss … she would never have admitted she was ill … and Mrs Patmore is right … Mrs Hughes will be fine … now you'll need to be strong for her tomorrow and so at least try to get some rest … its gone eleven … go on now …" Anna said kindly, trying to encourage him.

The last thing he would be able to do was sleep but he also knew that he could not stay in Mrs Hughes's bedroom overnight and so he nodded gently and, with a heavy heart, walked out of the room.

######

It was three o'clock and Thomas could not sleep, he was not blind; he had seen the fretful expressions on the faces of Mr Carson, Mrs Patmore, Doctor Clarkson and Anna. The Housekeeper was very ill. He decided to go and find out if there was any news. The connecting door had been left open for one night only and, as he crossed the threshold, he saw Mr Carson sitting on the floor outside Mrs Hughes's bedroom.

"Mr Carson, what are you doing?" Thomas asked, staring at the hunched figure of the Butler.

"I could ask you the same question Mr Barrow … it is three o'clock …" Mr Carson said sharply.

"I was coming to see if there was any news … I couldn't sleep …" Thomas explained.

Mr Carson stalled at that; he had been overly harsh with his rebuke to Thomas; the young man was anxious about Mrs Hughes, the Butler could see that.

"There is no news … not since Doctor Clarkson left at eleven …" Mr Carson said more kindly.

"Have you been sitting out here since then? For four hours?" Thomas asked disbelievingly.

"I thought … well if anything was needed … I would be close by … I wanted to be here you see … for Mrs Hughes … I didn't want to leave her …" Mr Carson explained shyly, wondering why he was unburdening himself to Thomas.

Thomas looked at the formidable Butler as he sat, raised knees, on the floor. He looked a shadow of his former self as he sat crumpled and in pain. He did not want to leave Mrs Hughes, Thomas smiled warmly to himself. The man loves Mrs Hughes more than life, Thomas concluded with certainty.

"Does Mrs Patmore or Anna know that you are here Mr Carson?" Thomas asked, knowing the answer.

The proper Butler would not dream of being in Mrs Hughes's bedroom overnight yet he would sit on a hard, stone floor throughout the night, just to be close by.

"No … they think I have gone to bed," he answered.

Thomas smiled again; for once, he was going to help Mr Carson. He believed strongly that Mr Carson should be with Mrs Hughes; propriety be damned. He had witnessed the Butler's devotion to the Housekeeper this evening, and he had seen Mrs Hughes's affection for the Butler as he swept her up into his arms. Thomas hoped that if he ever loved another; he would be allowed to be there for him if he was this ill.

######

Thomas had spoken to Mrs Patmore and Anna; neither could believe that Mr Carson had been outside the entire time. They would have invited him into the room to sit with them; the silly but lovely, adorable man, they thought in unison.

The Cook and Ladies Maid had fussed over Mr Carson for the last hour, getting him some tea and toast, both giving him gentle squeezes on the arm, and settling him into the seat beside Mrs Hughes. They had removed his jacket and made him comfortable. He was actually a little embarrassed under their soppy gazes but not enough to care; he was so relieved and happy to be beside Mrs Hughes again. He had made himself a promise that he would never ever leave her again; not until she was up and about and calling him a grumpy, old bear. Mrs Patmore had again placed his hand over the Housekeeper's hand, as he sat devotedly by his dear friend's side. They all sat silently around the bed.

As the sun rose and the cock crowed; the meaning of this was not lost on any of them. It was morning and Mrs Hughes had survived the night. They could all see that the Housekeeper's breathing had calmed and her temperature had certainly dropped.

"She's through the worst ... I am sure of it …" Mrs Patmore beamed.

"I think you are right …" Mr Carson grinned joyously, as tears filled his eyes. He used his free hand to furiously wipe away his tears, mortified to have shown such emotion in front of his two colleagues.

"Nothing wrong with tears Mr Carson … it only means that you care," Anna smiled, as tears formed in her eyes too. He nodded without looking upwards.

The two women marvelled at the sight before them; they had never seen such devotion, as Mr Carson continued to lightly stroke the Housekeeper's hand.

"Mr Carson … Anna and I will go and freshen up … will you be alright here on your own?" the Cook asked, signalling to Anna with her eyes that they should leave the two in peace for a little while.

"Yes … yes … quite fine …" he smiled, as he finally caught their gaze.

Mrs Patmore winked at him fondly, as the two women left the room.

"I have made a right old fool of myself tonight Mrs Hughes … just wait until you wake up … you'll have a great big laugh at this daft, grumpy old bear … falling to pieces … even Thomas has taken pity on me …" he chuckled, his gaze never leaving Mrs Hughes's face.

She is so beautiful, he thought, his breath catching in his chest. He did not have the energy or the desire to deny it anymore. _I love you Mrs Hughes; I love you with all of my heart._ And with that, he reached across to her and placed the softest and most reverent kiss to her forehead.

######

An hour later, Mrs Hughes began to stir. My goodness, I feel like I have gone twenty rounds with a boxer, she thought, forcing her eyes to open. She couldn't remember ever feeling so weak, as she stared at the ceiling and then across to the sun streaming through the window. How long have I been asleep? As she attempted to focus on her surroundings, she was suddenly aware of a weight on her left hand. With some effort she turned to see what it was; a glowing smile appearing on her lips, as despite her sleepiness, she saw the Butler sitting in the chair, his head resting on the side of her bed, fast asleep. Despite his slumber, he still firmly held her left hand in his.

Mrs Hughes bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes at this sweet sight. Mr Carson was beside her as always, giving her strength. She gently freed her hand from his large fingers and softly and lovingly, stroked his hair. He murmured contentedly as she soothed him. She giggled as she watched him smile dozily in his sleep. _I love you, you daft man._

**_A/N: Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews- do let me know what you think. One more chapter to go x_**


	16. Mr Carson & Mrs Hughes

**_A/N: _****_Thank you very much for all of your wonderful reviews. _****_I have been quite overwhelmed with your encouragement for this little story and I hope you enjoy this gentle final chapter. _****_This closing instalment is from the perspective of Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes x_**

Chapter 16

"Mrs Hughes! You should be in bed …" Mr Carson gasped, as he and Mrs Patmore entered her bedroom with some soup and bread for lunch.

The Housekeeper was sitting in her chair, by the small table at the far end of the room.

"I have been in that bed for two days … I couldn't stand it a moment longer …" she replied.

"You are seriously ill for heaven's sake … most of us mere mortals would be in bed for weeks … now get back into bed this instant!" Mr Carson demanded, sounding a little sharp but only wanting what was best for her.

Even though Mr Carson knew that Mrs Hughes was through the worst, he was still terrified that she might regress if she did not take it easy and rest.

"I will not!" Mrs Hughes barked back.

Mrs Patmore gulped as she stood and watched the pair bicker; although she smiled thinking that at least things were getting back to normal.

"Mrs Hughes … you must! Now please get back into bed and rest …" he blustered.

He had an irrational urge to pick up her up and plonk her back in bed. He felt quite hysterical that she was up and about already when he knew that she should be resting. He needed her to rest; he needed Mrs Hughes to be well again and to be back at his side.

"I have had rest … I _am_ well rested … and I am not getting back in that bed …" she declared, looking at Mr Carson defiantly.

"Mrs Hughes … just two days ago you were lying in that bed unconscious … we were all so worried … we were thought you were going to die …" he exclaimed, mortified when his voice cracked and tears started to well in his eyes.

Mr Carson paused as he attempted to gather himself. Good god Charles Carson, don't crumble now; she can't ever know how much you love her, she does not feel the same, he reminded himself. Although there had been a few moments over the last few days when he had wondered, wondered if perhaps Mrs Hughes did have stronger feelings for him than just friendship. He shook his head to banish such foolish hopes.

The fire in Mrs Hughes was immediately extinguished as she heard the waver in the Butler's voice and watched him as he struggled to keep control. You are being selfish Elsie Hughes, the man looks distraught. The man you love is worried for you; he looks beside himself with concern. He may never love you as you love him but he certainly cares for you a great deal and you are causing him great distress.

"I will go back to bed Mr Carson …" she said kindly, smiling at him.

He sighed in relief, and a little bit of amazement; he could not remember the last time Mrs Hughes did as he asked. She normally did quite the opposite. He beamed back in return, as he regained control of his emotions, looking at her more steadily.

"Good … good …" he said calmly.

Mrs Patmore grinned at the pair; she had seen a definite shift over the past few days. Their feelings were rising to the surface, although it seemed that neither was yet fully aware of how the other felt. The Cook looked at them with fondness but incredulity; how could they still be oblivious to how much the other loved them? Their love filtered through every word, thought and action, she thought to herself.

Mrs Hughes suddenly looked sheepish; she had agreed to go back to bed but she was now going to have to admit that she needed help. Damn and blast! I really despise being sick, she thought ruefully.

"Umm … I may need a little help … it was a bit of a struggle getting over here …" she admitted.

Mr Carson rolled his eyes with a smile; she was a feisty little thing.

"Let's get you back into bed young lady …" he smiled warmly.

He reached his arms out to her and settled his hands around her waist. It felt a very intimate gesture but there was no other way to help her out of the chair. He lifted her upwards so that she was standing, her hands lightly resting on his chest. Both became equally flustered as they became aware of their proximity to the other. They laughed nervously, as Mrs Hughes shook her head at her own ridiculousness and Mr Carson exhaled a long, anxious breath. Neither moved, they were both still standing in the same spot, with Mrs Hughes still resting in Mr Carson's arms.

"The bed Mr Carson … you were taking Mrs Hughes back to her bed …" Mrs Patmore teased, somehow containing her mirth.

Mrs Hughes rolled her eyes at her cheeky friend, as Mr Carson muttered something or other to cover his discomfort.

The Cook chortled delightedly.

######

Later that day, Anna brought Mrs Hughes her medicine and the older and younger women were enjoying a brief chat.

"Is everything alright downstairs?" the Housekeeper asked.

"Everything is fine … don't you worry about a thing … you just need to concentrate on getting better …" Anna smiled.

"You sound like Mr Carson!" Mrs Hughes laughed.

Anna smiled and then looked down at her knees, as she started to fumble with her hands.

"Anna … what is it? Is Mr Carson alright?" Mrs Hughes immediately panicked; she could sense that Anna was trying to hide something.

"Yes … yes … of course … he is fine …" she replied, not very convincingly.

"Anna please … you need to tell me …" the Housekeeper said anxiously.

"He is fine Mrs Hughes … it is not that at all … Mr Carson … he was just so worried for you," she said hesitantly.

Mrs Hughes felt relieved; at least he is well. She was worried that he had made himself sick; trying to do his own job and hers. Anna's words did not surprise her; of course he had been worried, as she had for him when he had been ill. He was worried for his friend and also concerned, as Head of Staff, for a member of his team. Yes that was it; she could not allow herself to think it was anything more.

"I know he was worried Anna … he is a kind man and he cares greatly for his staff …" Mrs Hughes responded.

"Oh Mrs Hughes … don't you see? It was much more than caring for a member of his staff … the man was broken … do you know that he sat outside in the corridor all night long in case something happened … he wanted to be near you so that he could help …" she explained.

Mrs Hughes looked stunned at this information; the man had not even gone to bed when she was ill? No wonder she had woken to find him asleep, his head resting on her bed. She was only just digesting this new knowledge as Anna continued.

"We only realised that he was out there when Thomas found him … we had sent him away to get some sleep … we brought him in to sit with you … Mrs Hughes I have never seen such devotion in my life … he was in tears … stroking your hand … he wouldn't leave your side …" Anna said, her voice full of emotion.

Mrs Hughes gasped, tears forming in her eyes. She knew it really; on some level she had known it for some time. Mr Carson did love her; although she was not sure if he had admitted this to himself yet, or even if he had, she was not sure if he would ever act on this. They were the Butler and Housekeeper, colleagues and friends.

"I am sorry Mrs Hughes … I should not have said a thing … I am simply very happy for you, that is all …" Anna said, squeezing the Housekeeper's hand.

Mrs Hughes smiled; wondering what she was to do now?

######

"Mrs Hughes … I wondered …" Mr Carson began, as he sat by her bedside three days later.

"You wondered if I would come back to work right this minute? Yes I will Mr Carson … I will …" she joked, pretending to get up off the bed.

He chuckled, shaking his head, as he rested his hand on hers to stop her from getting up. Mrs Hughes giggled too. She was fed up of staying in her room; she truly missed being downstairs with her friends and colleagues.

As she sat up on the bed, she was fully dressed; she had insisted on this, with so many visitors to her bedroom she refused to stay in her nightgown all day. Therefore, every morning Mrs Patmore or Anna helped her get dressed and then she lay on top of the covers. She did not wear her usual housekeeper attire but rather a pretty summer blouse and long skirt.

"Mrs Hughes, I wondered if you would like to get some fresh air … to go for a short walk … and I mean _short _walk… with me," he asked, hoping he was not being too presumptuous.

"Oh Mr Carson I would love to … a walk would be perfect …" she said, excited by the prospect of getting out of this room.

The Butler looked as proud as punch.

"Excellent … well I will just go and change into something more comfortable," he said, looking down at his livery.

"Oh, maybe I should change too? I wouldn't want to look sloppy …" she said, looking down at her clothes.

"You couldn't look sloppy if you tried Mrs Hughes … you look quite lovely …" he beamed, and then almost choked as he realised what he had just said.

Oh dear god Charles; you may as well write it on the wall, you are so obvious. However, as Mrs Hughes gazed at the Butler sympathetically, he could not help thinking that she looked as pretty as a picture. Her blouse was a light pink; a colour she never normally wore, and her skirt a dark, rich plum. He was mesmerised by her and yet still quite ruffled. Mrs Hughes decided to try to lighten the mood.

"Well thank you Mr Carson … now go on and get changed … I'll be expecting a dashing Butler back here in ten minutes to take me for a turn around the gardens," she smiled, as he chuckled and blushed.

######

They were walking slowly along the path to the orchard and Mrs Hughes was linking Mr Carson's arm and leaning into him for support. She genuinely was still unsteady on her feet but she was also enjoying very much the warmth of being snuggled into his side.

Mr Carson was trying very hard to concentrate on the path in front of him; very distracted as he was by the lovely Scottish woman resting cosily against his side. In all of the years they had been friends, they had never linked arms. The feeling was sublime and he never wanted to let her go.

"The flowers are so colourful at this time of year … I rarely get to this part of the garden to see them," she smiled, as Mr Carson led her to a bench. He knew that she must be feeling tired, even if she would never admit this.

"I know … we should come out here more often," he smiled, delighted when he realised that Mrs Hughes was still linking his arm as they sat. How could something so new to them feel so natural? he wondered.

"I would like that … oh and look at those chrysanthemums …" she said, pointing to the red flowers.

"They are your favourite aren't they?" he asked, trying to sound as if he wasn't sure.

"They are … especially yellow ones …" she smiled, looking up at him knowingly with a teasing smile.

He gulped; why did he ever imagine he could keep a secret from Mrs Hughes.

"You knew?" he asked softly.

"I did … they were absolutely beautiful … and it was a very touching gesture," she smiled, gently stroking his arm.

His mortification was offset by the pride of making Mrs Hughes so happy.

"I knew it was your birthday too …" she added cheekily, as the Butler's mouth dropped open wide.

She giggled joyfully as she watched his flabbergasted expression.

"How did … I mean … you … how did you … you planned that wonderful day … especially for me?" he stuttered, quite breathless.

Now it was Mrs Hughes's turn to feel a little off balance; a hint of pink appeared on her cheeks.

"I did," she replied honestly, gazing at Mr Carson.

"Thank you," he smiled sincerely, not being able to take his gaze from her.

As they sat on the bench, the sun shone brightly in the sky. The only sounds were the birds chirping in the trees, there was no one else around, they had the gardens to themselves. Mrs Hughes rewarded Mr Carson with an exquisite smile, as they sat blissfully in each other's company. The scent of the summer flowers filled the air. As they both became lost in the others eyes, they felt a shaking of the ground beneath them.

Should I tell her? he wondered. Should I tell her right now? There may never be a more perfect moment. I have never loved anyone more in my entire life, he thought; she is my world, I should just tell her. The Butler began to fluster, feeling butterflies in his tummy and a flush of heat to his face. What should I say? Should I just come out with it? Or should I be more subtle; perhaps give a small hint of my feelings? Oh dear god, I need to say something, she is going to think I am quite mad, sitting here working myself into a tizzy. He smiled weakly towards her; but what if she doesn't feel the same? he panicked.

Mrs Hughes watched as the Butler became more and more restless and jittery. She could see that he wanted to say something but he seemed to be wavering, doubting himself. Could he be about to tell me? To declare his feelings to me? Oh I really hope so; please make it be that. He looks so anxious; why is he worried? Surely he knows how much I love him, the daft man? I would do anything for him. She watched as he worked himself into a lather; his body and his face wracked with nerves.

Mrs Hughes had an idea and without another thought she reached up, cupped his face with both hands, and gave Mr Carson a quick, fleeting kiss on the lips. She then leaned back quickly, biting her lip but with a cheeky glint in her eye. Mr Carson looked astonished, as he stared at Mrs Hughes in utter surprise.

"I am sorry Mr Carson … I thought a quick kiss might steady you …" she reasoned, a twinkle in her eyes.

The Butler looked amused, grinning joyously, as the shock began to wear off.

"I think perhaps a second kiss may steady me even more …" he said seriously, just the hint of a smile tweaking at his lips.

"Is that so?" she giggled, as she reached upwards, this time placing a more lingering kiss to his lips. He let out a tiny groan as he slipped a hand to her waist, holding her reverently. Mrs Hughes murmured as his lips now brushed her mouth softly in return.

They were both quite breathless as they broke from this brief kiss; resting their foreheads against each other as they sat on the bench. Mrs Hughes let her hands settle on his chest, as he glided one arm around her back, holding her securely. With his other hand, he caressed her face, pushing back a couple of wisps of silky hair that had come loose.

"I love you Mrs Hughes," Mr Carson breathed, his forehead still resting on hers.

Her heart filled with love as she smiled blissfully at her man.

"I love you too, you grumpy old bear," she teased, as his face lit up with joy.

The Butler and Housekeeper were oblivious no more.

_The End._


End file.
